Inconceivable: The Story of Vizzini's Daughter
by Skye Aerrow
Summary: Never go against a Sicilian when DEATH is on the line.
1. Chapter One: The Letter and the Oath

Skye Says: I've been writing nothing but Labyrinth fanfics lately, so I figured I'd take a break. This is my first Princess Bride story, so I'm not sure whether I'll write more.

Disclaimer: I own everyone except the charries from the movie, which I love to death and would never claim as mine.

* * *

Chapter One- The Letter and the Oath

**Sicily, Italy**

A STEADY RAIN was falling from the sky, just as it had been for several weeks.

Every day, the sun would come out, warming the land until about noon, and then the torrential downpours would begin. Though rain was a necessity, flooded streets and overflowing rivers were not.

Twenty-three year-old Caterina strolled along the desolate streets, puddles of rainwater soaking the hem of her crimson skirt. Crimson, though it was a color she herself despised, was what she had chosen to dye all of her dresses. After her lover had told her that it was scarlet that suited her best, Caterina had worn nothing but crimson, scarlet, and shades of purest ruby.

Really, she no longer had a reason to wear red any longer. Her lover was dead now, murdered by Prince Humperdinck of Florin.

Caterina swore, despite the fact that she'd been brought up in a family that simply did _not_ use such language. She couldn't help it- she always cursed at the thought of the wicked prince.

Prince Humperdinck. A man she utterly loathed. He'd courted Caterina in his desperate quest for a perfect queen, but had been rejected when he'd asked Caterina's father for Caterina's hand in marriage.

"She is already spoken for, Your Highness," Vizzini had said, laying a hand on Caterina's arm. "Solanio, a merchant from Venice, is her fiancé. For Caterina to choose you over him… such a thing would be inconceivable."

Humperdinck was incensed. He demanded to be shown to Solanio immediately. Vizzini had lied, telling the prince that the merchant had returned to Venice. The next day, Humperdinck left Sicily, vowing to track down Solanio if it was the last thing he'd do. He swore that he would do everything in his power to prevent Caterina from marrying the merchant.

True to the prince's word, Solanio failed to awaken on the morrow of his wedding. Caterina had found him in his study with a piece of hammered steel protruding from his chest.

Caterina blinked back the sudden wave of emotions that washed over her and nodded politely to a passing stranger. It was a woman she knew, though she couldn't quite place the woman's name.

To add insult to injury, Prince Humperdinck had lost interest in Caterina after slaying Solanio. Vizzini, at seeing how grieved his daughter was, declared that Caterina would never have to even _look_ at Prince Humperdinck again. Caterina's mother, Bianca, had also declared this.

Caterina sighed to herself as rivulets of rainwater- no, those were _tears_- coursed down her cheeks. It had been six long years since she'd seen her beloved slumped over on his desk, yet the grief still tore at her heart. She needed to move on, she knew that, but she knew that the only way she _could_ move on involved seeing Humperdinck die.

Startled to feel a tap on her shoulder, Caterina halted abruptly and whirled around to find herself face to face with a messenger girl.

"_Bongiorno, _Caterina," the messenger girl greeted, holding out a sealed envelope. "I have a message for you."

"A message?" Caterina queried, accepting the letter and regarding it with curiosity. "From whom?"

The girl shrugged and ran off, leaving Caterina puzzled.

OoOooOooOoo

"Mother!" Caterina called, her ebony ringlets bobbing as she sprinted into the house, tracking water in off the streets. "Mother, I'm home! I have something to show you!"

Bianca, the wife of Vizzini and the mother of Caterina, staggered into the foyer groggily, looking half-asleep. "Caterina, must you shout? Honestly, you know I haven't been feeling well."

"I apologize for my outburst, Mother, but I wanted to show you _this_," Caterina replied, handing over the envelope. "I just received it from a messenger, though I don't know what it-"

Before Caterina could finish, Bianca had swiftly torn the envelope open and had hastily begun to read the letter inside. After a moment, Bianca's chocolate eyes lifted from the message, shining with tears. Caterina's mother swore quietly, despondently, then fled the room and sobbed furiously.

The letter, which had fluttered to the floor, was obviously _not_ very pleasant. Caterina balked at the thought of actually reading it, but she also balked at the thought of _not_ reading it.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her- as it often did- and she gathered up the letter. Her voice trembled as she read aloud, but her words never faltered.

"_Mistress Bianca and Miss Caterina:_

_It is with ill tidings that this message is presented to you. Please know that I offer my deepest condolences over the death of your husband/ father, though it is I who has caused his death. Vizzini had been employed by Prince Humperdinck to kidnap and murder Princess Buttercup, his fiancée. _

_Your husband/father had successfully taken the princess as far as the Cliffs of Insanity- and farther- when he had realized that I was pursuing him. After besting his Spaniard and giant, I made haste to go up against Vizzini himself. He challenged me to a battle of wits, and I'm sorry for you to say that he lost._

_Know this, Mistress Bianca and Miss Caterina: Vizzini made me swear on my life that I would send you this message after he died. He held you both in the highest regards, I'm certain._

_If you wish to know the agent of his death, it is called iocane powder. Your father was kind enough to tell me its origins, I might add. Australia, in case you were wondering. Iocane is odorless and tasteless, though it is the deadliest poison known to man._

_If you wish to know the name of the man who _delivered _the agent of Vizzini's death, there is only one name I can divulge. It is a name feared by many and thanked by few, but it is a name, all in all._

_Therefore, Mistress Bianca, know that it is the Dread Pirate Roberts who murdered your husband._

_Therefore, Miss Caterina, know that it is the Dread Pirate Roberts who murdered your father."_

A choking sob escaped Caterina's lips as bitter tears blurred the words on the paper before her. _Surely, this is all just a nightmare_, she thought as uneasiness settled in her chest. _Surely, my father is still alive. There is simply no way that this man, this Dread Pirate Roberts, could defeat _my _father in a battle of wits. Father is- was- the smartest man alive… or, uh, dead…_

Hearing her mother weeping in the next room, Caterina was forced to face the awful truth: her father and her mother's husband, Vizzini, was truly dead.

A hollow ache tore through Caterina's figure, threatening to suffocate her as she sank to her knees on the cold stone floor. Burying her face in her hands, the tears came unbidden. It seemed almost as if a dam behind Caterina's emerald eyes had finally burst. The floodgates of sorrow had opened once again.

Caterina realized that the intense pain searing her heart was almost identical to the pain she had faced at the arrival of Solanio's death. A bitter rage was consuming her once again, and the torturous flames of vengeance were burning her strong-willed soul. Only the act of committing murder would ease such an despicable pain.

"Now there are two men I must destroy: Prince Humperdinck the Foul and the cursed Dread Pirate Roberts," heartsick Caterina declared boldly, her harsh tone carrying a fierce finality. "I _shall_ have my revenge..."

Caterina took a knife from the table nearest her, rose to her feet, and slit the flesh on her palm. As crimson- blessed crimson, _her_ blessed crimson- blood bubbled from the wound, Caterina closed her eyes and repeated the oath. "I _will_ have my revenge."

Her cut hand left a bloody handprint on the letter, contrasting with the black lettering.

Caterina smiled a twisted smile- or rather a crooked sneer- as the pact was sealed.

Vizzini had always told her of the importance of a blood oath- a promise sealed with blood should _never_ be broken.

Caterina let a cruel cackle escape her parched throat as she continued to streak the paper with her blood, strengthening the oath. The parchment was stained a deep ruby. The room stunk of iron.

"I _shall _have my revenge!"

* * *

Skye Also Says: Looks like Caterina isn't as timid as she seemed at first. Vindictive little thing, isn't she? I would write more, but a) I just relapsed into a terrible bout of Writer's Block and b) this seemed like a fine place to leave off. I'm not sure what should happen next at the moment, but I will write more as soon as I'm struck by inspiration. Perhaps I should watch the movie again...


	2. Chapter Two: The Sailor

Skye Says: Since you've all been immensely supportive…

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I own everyone except the charries from the movie, which I love to death and would never claim as mine.

* * *

Chapter Two- The Sailor

**Sicily, Italy**

**Three Days Later**

"Excuse me, _signor_…"

"Si, _signora_?"

"I need a boat."

"I have one."

"I mean, I need to find a boat that sails to Florin. Do you know of-"

"Welcome aboard, then."

Caterina blinked at the man standing on the steps in front of her. "What?"

"I said, 'welcome aboard," he replied with a slight smile as he climbed back onto his boat.

Caterina stared at him. He had a nice smile, a nice face, nice eyes…

The sailor began unwinding a coil of rope. After a few moments, he noticed that Caterina hadn't moved. "Well, are you coming, or not?"

Caterina tucked a stray strand of ink-colored hair behind her ear and let her jade eyes drop down to the hem of her rubyesque gown (which was finally dry because it had actually _stopped_ raining in Sicily). He'd offered to take her to Florin a little too eagerly, hadn't he? He father had taught her to be wary of strange men. "_Grazie_, _signor_, but… I haven't many ducats with me."

"Who said I wanted _money_, _signora_?"

She swallowed as a shudder or revulsion passed through her body. Caterina felt a stab of not only fear, but anger as well. _What does he take me for, a common whore?_ _I was raised far better than that!_ The urge to run overpowered her, but her legs refused to move. She froze, paralyzed and helpless.

His brow furrowed as he studied her somewhat curiously. He let his muddy eyes rove all over her, then allowed them to rest on her face, where he noted her pained expression. "_Signora…?"_

Caterina looked up at him, fighting back a wave of panic. She'd made a blood oath to avenge her father, and she was willing to do _whatever_ it took to fulfill her promise. Clearing her throat in an attempt to stop the uneasiness from creeping into her voice, she took a deep breath, picked up her skirts, and stepped onto the ship.

The man raised an eyebrow, letting the rope slip from his hands.

"Where do you… want it, then?" Caterina demanded, voice quavering despite her efforts. "I'll… do as good of… a job as I can, but… I'll tell you, I'm fairly… inexperienced."

Realization dawned as she laid her hands on his shoulders and leaned in close, her lips moving against his ear.

"But, _per favore_, _signor_… I'd at least like to know your name…"

"I-it's Antonio," he said curtly, prying her hands off of his shoulders and taking a step back. "And… I'm f-flattered, _signora…_?"

"Caterina."

"Caterina. I'm flattered, really, but… that isn't… _quite_ what I meant when I said that I didn't want money."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Oh."

"I simply meant that… you don't have to give me any ducats because I'd rather you pay me by serving as my _cook_."

"Oh. Of course."

"I'm afraid I can't make anything edible," Antonio added. "So I'll be more than willing to transport you to Florin if you agree to fix my meals."

Caterina smiled slightly, glad that her mother had taught her how to make the best pasta in all of Italy. "Alright. You have a deal."

"Excellent, Caterina," Antonio replied, flashing her a grin as he leaned against the mast. "We leave at sunset, _si_?"

"Perfect, Antonio," Caterina said, feeling happier than she had in what seemed like forever. "_Absolutely_ perfect."

* * *

Skye Also Says: Yes, it's short. The next one will be EXTREMELY long, though, I promise. Let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter Three: Homesickness

Skye Says: Because I love you all so much…

Disclaimer: I own all of the charries except the ones from the movie, which I love to death and would never claim as my own.

* * *

Chapter Three- "Homesickness"

**Antonio's ship, **_**The Merchant**_

**The sea, somewhere south of Florin**

**Three months later**

It had been easier than she'd thought, leaving the little Italian island she'd called home for as long as she could remember. She hadn't cried at all- well, except for a few tears at the house. She hadn't cried when they'd pulled away from the door, nor when Sicily became scarcely more than a pinprick of shadow on the horizon, nor even when the island disappeared completely.

Caterina leaned against the railing of the ship, sighing as she stared down at the moonlit water. The first time she'd _really_ cried had been only when she'd cooked her first meal aboard _The Merchant_. As soon as her eyes had fallen on her mother's neat, even handwriting, she'd dropped the stolen recipe card and promptly burst into tears.

_Maybe things wouldn't have been so bad if I'd actually said "goodbye"_, Caterina thought. _Maybe it would've been better to actually tell Mother everything._

But… she hadn't, and it was pointless to follow this train of thought any further.

Caterina had ended up waiting for her mother to go the market that afternoon, leaving Caterina alone. She then gathered a few possessions into a burlap bag, tucked Robert's letter into her bodice, and commandeered her mother's pasta recipe. Finally, she hunched over a piece of parchment and scrawled out a note:

_Mother,_

_I'll be gone when you read this, I suppose. Gone where… I'm afraid I can't tell you._

_I know how hard it is for you to lose your husband and then to come home one day and find that your daughter is missing._

_I'm terribly sorry._

_Don't fret about me. I have plenty of money and clean clothes, and I can take care of myself._

_All my love,_

Caterina

_P.S.: I, er, "borrowed" your pasta recipe. I hope you don't mind._

Naturally, she'd cried then, too, but surely that was to be expected.

Waves lapped against the ships hull, drawing her back to the present. Salty sea air whipped her hair around her face as she lifted her eyes to the stars, silent tears falling down her face.

* * *

The next morning, Caterina rose early and headed down to the galley with the intent of frying up some fish Antonio had caught the day before. He'd been so nice to her lately- the least she could do was fix him some decent breakfast.

Going to light a fire in one of the only wood-burning stoves on deck, she found that it was already burning, which meant that she hadn't gotten up early enough.

"I couldn't sleep…"

Caterina whirled around to find herself face-to-face with the sailor himself. Antonio was dressed in loose brown pants and an off-white linen shirt that was open at the collar, revealing several inches of smooth muscle.

She tried not to stare.

"You were sobbing again," Antonio clarified as he began to rummage through a crate. "I thought you said you were done with crying in your sleep."

Her hands clenched on the fabric of her skirt. She had decided to wear green today, in hopes that a color change would take some of the pain out of her memories. "I thought I _was_ done with crying in my sleep."

"Hm." He held up a bag of flour.

She took the flour from him. Their fingertips brushed.

"I set the fish out after I let the fire."

"_Grazie_."

He watched her as she laid the fish out in a skillet. She was wearing green, he noticed, for the first time since he could remember. She should wear green more often. It suited her.

Caterina added the flour and the oil to the fish, humming a tune as the meat began to sizzle. After a few moments, she felt Antonio's eyes on her. "What?"

"Oh, nothing… just… you look lovely in green."

Caterina tensed up as he approached her. "Oh. Really? Green?"

"_Si_. You should wear it more often."

She bit her lip and returned her attention to the fish.

"Caterina, you've been sailing with me for awhile now, and we've had several meaningful conversations. Would you humor me if I were to say that we're friends?"

She nodded. "We're friends."

"And… as your friend," Antonio said. "I care about you."

A sudden pang of guilt struck Caterina's chest as soon as the words left Antonio's lips. I her lifetime, there had only ever been four people who had really cared about her. Vizzini and Solanio were dead. Humperdinck had merely been desperate. Bianca… well, she'd probably shattered Bianca's heart.

"I'm not sure… what's going on with me, Antonio," Caterina whispered, relishing the scent of the frying fish. Her stomach growled now, and she was glad that the meat was almost done cooking. "I wish I did, but… I have no idea."

Antonio reached out and brushed her hair away from her temples. "You're homesick, _signora_. That's all."

Her emerald eyes fixed themselves on his chocolatey ones. A cold sense of uncertainty washed over her, followed by uneasiness. He was standing uncomfortably close.

"It's only natural… for you to be… homesick."

Was it really that simple? _Homesickness_? Was it really homesickness that tore at her gut, ripped her heart in half, and stole the air from her lungs? Was it _homesickness _that drove her to tears whenever she thought of Solanio and Vizzini? Was it honestly _homesickness _that raked its venomous claws across her memories, turning the priceless into the painful?

Homesickness? More like heart-wrenching despair.

Without warning, Antonio's mouth smashed against hers, shattering her thoughts. The suddenness of this act, compounded with all the pain she'd been feeling and what Antonio had so ineffectively diagnosed as "homesickness", caused Caterina to shudder violently as she jerked away from the sailor.

Then, her hand flew back against his cheek so hard that she felt his blood on her cheek. A flood of anger and horror poured from her eyes as she shot Antonio a look so cold, it was a wonder he didn't shiver.

"You won't be able to sleep tonight, either," she hissed, swearing at him as she stumbled up the stairs and across the hall to her cabin.

As the door slammed shut behind her and the Sicilian woman dissolved into tears, the discordant smell of burnt fish floated around in the air.

* * *

_It was noon in Sicily. A pleasant breeze gusted over the rolling landscape, carrying the sound of laughter._

_Very familiar laughter._

"_Come on over here, Cat! I want to show you something!"_

_Caterina gasped as she realized who the figure on the lush green hillside was. Her heart pounded against her ribcage so furiously she feared it might burst as she sprinted towards the man, eyes wide in surprise. "Solanio!"_

"Si_," he called back, flashing her a warm grin. "Who else?"_

_She ran straight into his arms, hugging him tightly and never wanting to let go. He smelled sweet and spicy at the same time, like cinnamon. "I love you, Solanio," she breathed into his neck. "I'm crazy about you."_

_Solanio's arms tightened around her. Caterina began to feel like she was suffocating._

"_Hey! What are you doing? I can't breathe!"_

_She struggled to get free, but it was no use- he was far too strong. Black spots began to hover before her eyes as she gasped for breath. "S-Solanio!"_

"_Calm down, Caterina," Solanio growled in a voice that sounded too much like Antonio's. "It's only homesickness..."_

* * *

Caterina woke with a start, gulping in air and weeping bitterly.

The only satisfaction she got from crying herself back to sleep that night was knowing that Antonio would hear every single sob.

Thank God for paper-thin walls and "homesickness".

* * *

Skye Also Says: Looks like there's a bit of drama going on aboard _The Merchant_. The next chapter might take me awhile to write, by the way, so I might not have it up for a few weeks.


	4. Chapter Four: The Storm

Skye Says: This chapter took absolutely AGES for me to write, so I would really appreciate some input on it.

Disclaimer: I own all of the charries except the ones from the movie, which I love to death and would never claim as my own.

* * *

Chapter Four: The Storm

**Antonio's ship, **_**The Merchant**_

**The sea, somewhere **_**just**_** south of Florin**

**One week after the "homesickness" incident**

Caterina sat on the edge of the bed with her knees pulled to her chest. A full week had passed since Antonio had kissed her, and she still refused to talk to him. His words said _friends_, but his actions said another thing entirely.

"I'm beginning to think he only rejected my advances back in Sicily because he didn't want to scare me off," she muttered, voice muffled by the crash of thunder outside. A brilliant flash of lighting lit up the cabin, followed by a loud curse.

Caterina moaned and willed her stomach to cease its churning. Unlike Antonio, the storm hadn't really bothered her, not even when the ship lurched so suddenly that she was thrown off the bed. Antonio, however, hadn't left his cabin since the storm began, and from what Caterina could hear through the thin walls, his stomach wasn't too fond of rough seas.

"Serves him right for betraying my trust."

The wind must have picked up outside, because the rain began to pelt the side of the ship much more fiercely.

Caterina's eyes darted over to the small dresser in the corner of the room. Her clothes were in the top drawer, and the letter from Roberts-

The Italian woman started as another peal of thunder rattled the glass of the cabin's only porthole. _The storm will pass_, she reassured herself._ Eventually._

Roberts' letter. How many nights had it been since she'd last looked at it? Five? No wonder she'd been so distracted.

Anxiously, Caterina slid her legs off the bed, gripping the headboard for support. Shakily, she somehow managed to stand to her feet, even though the floor below her was pitching violently.

Carefully, she made her way towards the dresser, stumbling over the uneven places in the floor. She fell once, as the ship was buffeted by a particularly powerful wave, and Caterina prayed to God that Antonio hadn't been lying when he'd said that _The Merchant_ was a strong ship.

After a significant amount of time has passed, she successfully took hold of the dresser and pulled herself up. The letter was precisely where she'd left it.

"Curse this storm!" she heard Antonio below from his cabin as another startling peal of thunder shook the ship. "At this rate, we'll never-"

He was seized by a fit of coughing, followed by a very unpleasant-sounding retch.

Caterina swore as she sat back down on the bed to reread the letter.

"_Mistress Bianca and Miss Caterina:_

_It is with ill tidings that this message is presented to you. Please know that I offer my deepest condolences over the death of your husband/ father, though it is I who has caused his death. Vizzini had been employed by Prince Humperdinck to kidnap and murder Princess Buttercup, his fiancée._

_Your husband/ father had successfully taken the princess as far as the Cliffs of Insanity- and farther- when he had realized that I was pursuing him. After besting his Spaniard and giant, I made haste to go up against Vizzini himself. He challenged me to a battle of wits, and I'm sorry for you to say that he lost._

_Know this, Mistress Bianca and Miss Caterina: Vizzini made me swear on my life that I would send you this message after he died. He held you both in the highest regards, I'm certain._

_If you wish to know the agent of his death, it is called iocane powder. Your father was kind enough to tell me its origins, I might add. Australia, in case you were wondering. Iocane is odorless and tasteless, though it is the deadliest poison known to man._

_If you wish to know the name of the man who _delivered _the agent of Vizzini's death, there is only one name I can divulge. It is a name feared by many and thanked by few, but it is a name, all in all._

_Therefore, Mistress Bianca, know that it is the Dread Pirate Roberts who murdered your husband._

_Therefore, Miss Caterina, know that it is the Dread Pirate Roberts who murdered your father."_

It was the exact same letter she'd read so long ago, back in the safety of her own home in Sicily, but it seemed somehow… _different_.

She ran her thumb along the lines of blood she'd scrawled on the parchment and closed her eyes. A blood oath. She'd made a blood oath to avenge Solanio and Vizzini and already, she'd completely forgotten about it.

Caterina swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced back down at the dried blood.

A _blood oath_, for heaven's sake! A promise that wasn't meant to be broken!

Instead of worrying about _Antonio_ and all this _drama,_ she _should_ be trying to come up with a plan to kill Humperdinck!

A staggering wave of guilt collided with the Sicilian's heart, causing angry tears to spring from her eyes. How could she have been so _foolish_? She made a _promise_! A solemn vow!

Her shoulders shook with the effort of her sobs as she clenched the letter in her hand so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Outside, the heavens warred against the earth.

Inside, a storm of a very different kind was raging.

* * *

Antonio bowed his head over the bucket for what he believed to be the tenth time that hour, swearing vehemently as his stomach flipped. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead as his face contorted in dread. "This isn't fair," he moaned. "_Caterina_ isn't sick, and _she's_ never even been on a boat before!"

With a sudden jerk, the sailor was forced to return to the bucket, groaning as his stomach reemptied itself.

This storm made him feel like hell could be a kind of paradise.

Antonio swore again and fell back against the end of the bed, shuddering as the storm continued outside.

"Kill me," he begged. "Just kill me now."

* * *

Eventually, the storm did let up. Much to Caterina's dismay, Antonio recovered as well. The first morning she'd woken up to sunshine instead of lightning, she'd heard him singing in his cabin. 

An hour later, he'd rapped on the door and invited her to breakfast.

She'd cursed at him and told him to go away.

Later, when her hollow stomach had practically screamed at her, she'd relented. After making the bed, washing her face, and putting on a ruby dress, Vizzini's daughter made her was down the hall and descended the staircase into the galley, feeling somewhat uneasy as she recalled the events of her last encounter with Antonio.

"Caterina."

The Italian woman blinked as she looked over at the sailor. He regarded her apologetically, brow furrowing in concern. He appeared genuinely sorry for his actions.

Still, she wasn't going to take her chances.

Without so much as a scowl, Caterina brushed past him and sat down at the table, surprised to find it set. Even more surprising was the fact that there was fish frying on the stove.

"I _made_ breakfast. I figured I didn't deserve to have you fix it _for_ me."

She regarded him darkly. "You figured correctly."

Antonio kept his eyes on hers as he sat down in the seat adjacent to her. "Look, Caterina… I apologized already, so why don't you just go ahead and forgive me?"

"I think I despise you, _signor_."

He blinked, having clearly not anticipated such a response. _Okay,_ he thought. _Perhaps I deserved that one._

"Therefore, I cannot bring myself to forgive you for violating my trust."

"Caterina," Antonio tried, setting two plates of fish down on the table. "You… you didn't… you didn't… _enjoy _it, not even a little?"

Her heart thudded against her ribs. Yes, she had enjoyed it. Honestly, the minute she'd pulled away, she'd wanted to press her mouth against his _again_. Caterina was attracted to the sailor- she really was- but… his timing was terrible. Even _she_ could see that, and she was struggling with grief.

Swallowing a sudden nervous lump in her throat, Caterina crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at her lap. "No."

"At all?"

"No."

Antonio sighed. "I had hoped you'd say '_si_'."

"I bet you did," she replied coldly.

A tense silence settled between them, shattered only by the clink of silverware against ceramic. Acting as if everything was perfectly alright, Caterina had started to cut up her fish.

"We'll be arriving in Florin any day now."

She raised her head, drilling him with an inquisitive look. "Have we already passed Guilder?"

"Days ago," he confessed. "During the storm."

Caterina placed a piece of fish in her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

Antonio stared at her.

She swallowed. "I trust that Prince Humperdinck is still in power?"

"In Florin?"

"_Si_."

"Humperdinck. Hm. I believe… I believe he _died_ some time ago."

The meat stuck in her throat. Struggling for breath, Caterina was seized by a violent coughing fit and was forced to down the glass of wine Antonio had set out. Finally, when she had regained her composure, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Humperdinck's _dead_?"

Antonio raised an eyebrow, trying to judge her reaction. "Dead, deceased, passed on… _si_, Caterina, Humperdinck is dead."

No, it couldn't be. Surely, the man she loathed with a passion so intense it made her chest ache couldn't have already met his end. If he had… she would've known about it, right? She surely would've felt something, or had a vision, or… gods, it couldn't be. Humperdinck was alive, despite Caterina's wishes. Since she herself had yet to murder him, surely he was still alive.

"My uncle was an ally of his. They sent a letter."

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Are you ill?"

She swore. If Humperdinck was dead, then she'd failed Solanio. By failing to avenge her beloved's death, she'd broken part of the blood oath she'd made back in Sicily.

An unwanted knife of guilt twisted Caterina's stomach as she fought back bitter tears. Antonio was still watching her, after all, and heaven knew she couldn't let him see her fall to pieces again.

"_Signora_, are you ill?" his voice was gentle, probing. The smoothness of it only made her feel worse, especially when she realized he genuinely cared.

"I'm feeling seasick," she lied quickly, working hard to hide the tremble in her voice. Shaking, she rose from the table and straightened out her skirt, turning towards the stairs as hot tears burned her eyes. "I believe I'll return to my cabin for awhile."

Antonio stood and watched as she headed upstairs, feeling like he should do something. Oddly enough, though, nothing came to mind.

The sailor watched his guest disappear out of sight, wondering if, perhaps, _he_ was the reason for her 'illness'.

* * *

Caterina lay back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling as tears ran down her cheeks. How could it be that she had failed? Apparently, fate itself was now working against her. 

Solanio's face drifted into her mind. The image brought more tears, along with a sharp pain that nearly ripped her chest apart.

"I… I never wanted to fail you, my love," she whispered softly. "I… I wanted to kill… I want to kill Humperdinck myself."

Humperdinck was dead. She knew it, even though she'd tried to deny it.

It had been a long time, after all, and Humperdinck wasn't a very well-liked man.

Caterina muttered another string of curses and rolled onto her side, pulling her knees to her chest. She rocked back and forth as she sobbed now, calling herself a failure.

Then, she was struck by yet another discomforting notion.

Now that Humperdinck was dead, she had absolutely no reason to be heading for Florin. Sure, the Dread Pirate Roberts still needed to be dealt with, but it was far too late in the year for him to be sailing anywhere near Florin.

She was on this godforsaken vessel for nothing.

Caterina sat up slowly, sliding her legs off the edge of the bed. It was quite possible that she could somehow convince Antonio to search for the pirate ship _Revenge_, but it wasn't very likely the sailor would want to willingly pursue a pirate ship. Not only that, but Caterina didn't have much money with her, and it was doubtless that she could find another way to persuade Antonio to alter his course.

Moaning, the Italian woman slumped against her pillow and stared out the cabin's porthole at the endless blue sky.

Somewhere on the ship, Antonio called her name, but it was effortless to pretend she hadn't heard him.

* * *

_Eight year-old Caterina leaned over the edge of the gondola, staring down into the murky depths of the Venetian canal. "Father," the girl asked. "Why is it that there are no gondolas in Sicily?"_

_Vizzini smiled and thought for a moment, glancing over at his wife, Bianca. "It would be inconceivable for there to be gondolas in Sicily, Caterina. The seas are too rough, and the rivers are too muddy."_

"_But, what of the lakes, Father? What of the springs where we get our water?"_

"_There'd be no point in maneuvering a gondola through a lake or a spring, my dear. You wouldn't really be going anywhere."_

_Caterina considered this briefly. She turned and looked over at Bianca. "Does Father know everything?"_

_Bianca laughed and flashed a teasing grin at her husband. "You know, Cat… I believe he _does _know everything."_

* * *

Antonio leaned over the tattered navigational chart, squinting in the dim candlelight. He'd spent the whole day looking for Caterina, only to realize that she had no intention of leaving her cabin, and had ended up eating dinner by himself before returning to his own chambers. Now, in an attempt to override the stress he was feeling, the sailor found himself trying to map out the fastest route to Florin. 

"The sooner we get there, the sooner I can get rid of that moody Sicilian wench."

He intended never to return to Sicily, either. Antonio was from Venice, a fact that he was immensely proud of, and knew that once he returned home, he'd have a very slim chance of ever seeing Caterina again, which was an insanely good thing.

At first, he'd been attracted to her. She was a beautiful woman, after all, and when she'd first boarded _The Merchant_ back in Sicily, her eagerness to please him had further ignited his interest. The first few months they'd spent together had seemed promising, but when he'd finally tried to show his affection for her, the open rejection she'd shown had nearly destroyed him.

Antonio cursed as he stared down at the map. They were only about three days away from the coast of Florin distance-wise, but since the waters around the country were bound to be riddled with fishermen this time of year, it would probably take them at least five days to make it to shore.

Five more days with Caterina would seem an eternity.

There weren't any pirates nearby around this time of year. They had all sailed up to Guilder, some even moving up the coast of Italy. Still, perhaps he could somehow fashion a jolly roger to scare off some of the fishermen as _The Merchant_ sailed into port. If the plan worked, they'd be in Florin in three days, no problem.

It wasn't the best idea, but it was worth a try.

* * *

Just when Caterina felt that things couldn't get any worse, another horrific storm fell upon the ship. Fierce winds pressed against the sides of T_he Merchant_ so hard that the wood creaked, rain slammed against the vessel with the force of blows, and the lighting and thunder were so frequent that the sky itself seemed to be exploding. 

This time, however, Caterina couldn't even thank the gods for her health, because the rolling sea put her in exactly the same position Antonio had been in: head bowed over a bucket, swearing angrily as her stomach churned.

She could tell Antonio was also very ill, but this realization did very little to comfort her.

More than once during the days that followed, she begged for someone to take her life, just as Antonio himself was doing. More than once, she found herself crawling towards the bed in the middle of the night, only to collapse on the floor from exhaustion.

The storm raged on for a week, much to _The Merchant_'s passengers' horror.

There was something Caterina and Antonio _didn't _know, however, something more dreadful than any tempest.

Unbeknownst to the two Italian's aboard the small Venetian vessel, the winds from the storm were blowing them steadily off course- they were headed east, towards Guilder, Italy, and the Dread Pirate Roberts.

* * *

Skye Also Says: Please don't ask me where I think Florin and Guilder are. They're fictional places, and, as such, have no bearing on the real world. Sure, I have them relatively close to Italy in this fanfic, but that's only to save time and make things easier to follow, _capice_? 

As for reviews, you know the drill. They're always welcome; if you have time, but if not, you don't necessarily _have _to send me one.

I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as I can, but in the mean time, you might want to watch the movie again, otherwise, my next chapter might not make much sense…


	5. Chapter Five: Preparing to be Boarded

**Skye Says: **Without further ado, I present... Chapter Five.

* * *

Chapter Five- Preparing to be Boarded

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, ninety miles off the coast of Guilder**

**One day after the storm **

"Captain, there's something I think you should see."

"Not now, Alejandro. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Sir… we've spotted a jolly roger flying over an unfamiliar ship."

"Pirates, hm? Why didn't you say so?"

The famed Dread Pirate Roberts rose from his desk and followed his first mate out to the main deck, where a horde of anxious sailors had gathered on the starboard side of the ship, chattering excitedly about the aforementioned enemy vessel. "Step aside, everyone. Now, what's everyone so worked up about?"

The crew all spoke at once.

"It's a pirate ship, Cap'n Roberts."

"We don't recognize it, either sir."

"They don't appear to be an ally…"

"I've never seen-"

"Quiet! Only one person may speak at a time," Roberts said, looking out to sea and squinting his eyes against the bright glare of the sun. "Now… which of you blackguards first spotted this ship?"

"It was me, Cap'n."

Roberts raised an eyebrow. "Lies will not be tolerated on this ship, Caldwell."

"But, sir, I swear I-"

"You lost your sight staring at the sun, you ignoramus."

The other men busted out laughing.

"Whenever I ask a question, men, I expect an answer worthy of my attentions. Is that clear? Now, I'll ask once more… who was the first one to notice that ship?"

"I did."

He grinned at the woman who had spoken- the only woman in the entire ship. Her name was Rosalina, and Roberts had taken quite a fancy to her after having pulled her from the wreckage of a vessel that had run aground. She had been the only survivor, and although the Dread Pirate Roberts never took any prisoners… he'd been willing to make a small exception. "You did, did you? Well, then… I suppose we should have a little _chat_ about all of this..."

Rosalina nodded dutifully and followed him back below deck, never once stopping or asking where they were headed. She was completely indebted to Roberts after he'd spared her life, and it was no secret that she'd gladly kill herself if her captain demanded it of her.

"Rosalina, _darling_… when exactly did this ship first… appear?" Roberts queried, closing the cabin door behind him. He'd led the woman to his own quarters so that they were assured privacy, not for the reason one might be inclined to believe, although, should something like that happen…

She looked nervous. "Uh… two days ago, Captain-"

"I thought I told you to be less _formal_ when we're alone."

"I mean, two days ago, _Roberts_."

"That's better." He smiled encouragingly. "Why didn't you bring this to my attention sooner, sweetheart?"

Rosalina hesitantly sat down on the edge of the bed, glancing up at him to make sure that she was allowed to sit there. "I thought, perhaps, that my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then, when I saw it was there the next day, I figured Alejandro would run to tell you before I could even dream of talking to you."

A light chuckle escaped his lips. He sat down beside her on the bed, acting as if he hadn't seen her tense up as their bodies touched. She was so innocent… so timid… "You know I would move heaven and earth to be able to speak with you, Rosalina. Do you think I feel the same about Alejandro?"

"Well… he's older than me…"

"Is he?" Alejandro was only twenty-two, which meant that Rosalina… "My God, how old _are_ you?"

"I'm… seven-t-teen," she stammered, clearly anticipating a bad reaction.

_Seventeen_. God, she _was_ young. The Dread Pirate Roberts had given his heart to a child. Curious, he reached towards her, stroking her cheek. When she didn't pull away, he lowered his voice. "Age is merely a number, my angel."

She turned her face when he tried to kiss her. "Roberts… the ship…"

"The ship can wait. I have more… _pressing_ matters to attend to."

Seventeen. She may have been a child, but she certainly didn't respond to Roberts like a child. When his lips pulled at hers, she kissed him eagerly. As his hands moved to her waist, she relaxed as if she'd done this a thousand times. The way she returned his affections… by the time he was fumbling with the buttons on her shirt, he had already forgotten all about her age.

* * *

**Antonio's ship, **_**The Merchant**_

**The sea, eighty-four miles off the coast of Guilder**

**Two days after the storm**

His plan had failed.

Antonio paced along the deck of the ship, fighting the urge to slap himself. It was _his_ fault that they were in this situation. _He_ was the one who had thought to send up a jolly roger.

_He_ would be the one responsible for bringing them to their deaths.

"Antonio… what's wrong?"

The Venetian turned on her, his eyes cold. "I thought you weren't speaking to me."

"Something's going on, and I want to know what it is."

He swore and returned his attention to pacing.

"Antonio!"

"We're about to die, _signora_! Is that what you wanted to hear? We're about to be executed in front of a mass of drunken scallywags!" Antonio spat the words with such intensity that he shook. "I suggest you make your peace with God this afternoon. I can't promise you'll even live to see sunset."

Caterina stared at him as if he'd sprouted a third eye. "What are you talking about?"

"See that ship on the horizon? It's a _pirate_ ship."

"Well, pirates aren't usually that bad. They might loot us, but-"

"That ship belongs to the _Dread Pirate Roberts_," Antonio said. "Do you understand the _gravity_ of the situation?"

Of course she did. Caterina wasn't raised in a cave, after all. Everyone knew that the Dread Pirate Roberts was the most feared pirate across the seven seas. He was notorious for his swordsmanship, his wit, and the fact that he never took prisoners. All people he encountered upon looting a ship were killed, usually on the spot, but sometimes on Roberts' own ship, inn front of the crew.

Caterina swallowed. "What… what are we going to do?"

"What _can _we do?" he queried, groaning. "There's nothing _to_ do!"

Her voice, which trembled as she replied, revealed her fear, though her words themselves sounded placid. "We should at least… prepare things."

Antonio stopped pacing and drilled her with a curious stare. "Prepare?"

"To be boarded, I mean."

"How in the world would we prepare to be boarded, _signora_?"

"Well… we could put all of the valuable stuff out in the open so they won't have to waste time looking for it. That would be prolonging the agony. And… I suppose we could try to gather some belongings-"

"What good will _that_ do?" The sailor swore. "He's going to _kill_ us, remember?"

"_Si_, Antonio, I am quite aware of that. However… there might be a way we can escape being murdered, for a little while, at least," Caterina said. "Surely you've heard the rumors…"

Antonio leaned against the ship's railing, crossing his arms over his chest. He was turning her comment over in his head, and judging by the pained expression on his face, he wasn't as open to the rumors being true as Caterina was. Then again, maybe it was a little dangerous to base their survival on Italian gossip. "You mean, the rumors that Roberts has gone soft?" He delivered this as more of a statement than a question, since the both of them knew exactly where she was going with this. "Do you realize how risky this is?"

Again, Caterina wasn't stupid. She knew that if they played their cards in the manner she was suggesting, and the rumor proved to be nothing more than a rumor, they would certainly be murdered today. However, if this plan worked… they would simply become prisoners.

Caterina bit her lip and waited a few more moments before responding, afraid that the tremor in her voice would cause Antonio to become all the more skeptical. "I believe this could work, Antonio. According to this rumor, Roberts is much less deadly than he once was because he's captured a woman and has fallen in love with her. Thus, he looks at the world in a different light." She hesitated. The thought of what she was about to say almost turned her stomach, but they had no other option. Besides, recalling the way Antonio had acted during their first few months together on the _Merchant_, she had a feeling he wouldn't mind acting his part. "So… we'll tell him we're lovers, and plead for our lives because we want to get married soon. If the rumor is true, we'll be taken aboard the _Revenge_ as prisoners, still breathing, still thinking, still _alive_."

"I see."

That was all? Where was the doubt, the criticism, the pessimism? "You… _see_?"

"_Si. _It sounds like a decent plan to me… _bella_."

It seemed he was indeed comfortable with his part. He'd never called her beautiful before. "We don't need to start _now_, you know."

Smirking, he rose to his full height and walked over to her. "I was just… getting into character."

His proximity was making her nervous. She knew all too well that he was a man of impulsivity, and remembering the "homesickness" incident, Caterina turned away from him and started for the door. "I believe I'll go downstairs and start bringing things up. Then, I'm going to hide some things in my clothing." Her hand covered the doorknob. "You should do the same."

* * *

Down in her cabin, Caterina was assaulted by a wave of anxiousness so strong that she nearly screamed. _What are we going to do? Even if the rumor _is _true, if Roberts doesn't believe us, or if he's in a horrible mood or something, there's still a decent chance he could kill us! If the rumor is true and he believe us, and he takes me and Antonio prisoners because he believes we are lovers, how long will we actually be able to keep up this charade? I can't stand Antonio, and I'm sure that after awhile, we'll both get sick and tired of living a lie. Oh, God… how did things get this bad? I never imagined I'd ever have to worry about facing the Dread Pirate Roberts, let alone try to stomach lying to the man!_

While the wheels in her head ceased their frantic spinning, Caterina busied herself with gathering up anything she thought Roberts might want- money, gold, silver, etc.- and carried it all upstairs, laying it down on the main deck of the ship. Once that was finished, she went into the galley and gathered up all of the wine and foodstuffs- and various other provisions she thought the pirates might use- and made an additional pile. Finally, she turned back towards the door and made her way back down the stairs and down the hall to her cabin.

_Antonio seems to be comfortable with the idea, but… surely he won't be so thrilled about it after some considerable amount of time passes. I'll yell at him, or say something the wrong way, or do something else to rouse his anger, and then, he'll blow our cover. God, I _really _can't let that happen! But… it's almost impossible to prevent that _from _happening. Unless…_

Roberts' letter, the one she'd received back in Sicily, the one announcing the news of her father, the one stained crimson with her blood, was tucked away in the bodice of her dress. Her mother's pasta recipe and a necklace Solanio had given her were the only things she was choosing to bring with her. All of her dresses, funds, and other belongings would remain on the ship.

_Unless, of course, I try to patch things up with him before the time to begin playing the game comes. Things would be so much easier if we were on good terms with each other. Naturally, I won't _completely _forgive him for all he's done- no, that would be _impossible_- but perhaps I can make him _think _I have._

When she climbed back up to the main deck of the ship, Antonio was waiting for her, looking just as worried as she felt. "_Bongiorno, signor_."

He smiled weakly. "I trust you're… you're ready, then, _signora_?"

"_Si,_ I am." Caterina was uncertain how things were going to go if she told Antonio that she'd forgiven him, but… she had to say it, regardless of her doubts. "And… I feel that I need to say… that I forgive you for your previous behavior. All of it." She paused. "All of it's forgiven."

He was dumbfounded. "B-but… you said before that you… whoa." The sailor chuckled nervously. "So, you've truly… forgiven me?"

"_Si._"

A long silence stretched between them. Caterina would've killed to know what Antonio was thinking about, but he never clarified his thought and musings aloud. Instead, he broke the silence with the worst news imaginable.

"While you were down… I looked over at Roberts' ship and saw that they had spotted us and were preparing the ropes and the cannons and such." His voice shook just as badly as Caterina's had. "Of course, they won't need the cannons, because… I've already sent up the white flag." The Venetian cursed quietly, dejectedly. They both knew what he was going to say next. "From what I can gather, they should be here within the hour."

Caterina moaned and sank to her knees, unable to keep from crying anymore. Everything was just too unbearably awful to be real, but the solid wood of the deck beneath her assured her that all of this was actually happening. First, Solanio's death, the Vizzini's, the news that Humperdinck had died, the storms, and now… _this._

Antonio surprised her by kneeling down beside her and gently pulling her into his arms. Under normal circumstances, she might have recoiled, but the gesture on his part was so sweet and unexpected… she put her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder, forgetting that she 'd ever been angry with him.

"Ssh… it's alright, _bella._ We'll be fine, Caterina, I swear. As long as we stick together… we'll be perfectly fine."

_Bella._ He'd used it again, and Roberts was nowhere around. The realization brought even more tears, followed by a string of curses directed at no one but herself.

How could she have been so cold, so hateful, so selfish? Sure, he'd messed up a few times, but… he obviously really _did_ have feelings for her. Maybe she should give him a chance.

"A-Antonio… I'm s-s-so sorry," Caterina cried, taking a deep breath in an effort to stop crying. "I l-lied… when I s-s-said I forgave y-you… I didn't really m-mean it, but now…" She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Now I really do."

Antonio smiled warmly. "I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

**Skye Also Says: **I intended for this to be longer, but as all writers know, when a chapter wants to end, you have no choice but to stop. :P Anyway, chapter six will deal with the actually boarding, Caterina and Antonio's lie, and… well, I could tell you, but that's called "spoiling", and I'm no spoiler. ;)


	6. Chapter Six: Boarded and Captured

Skye Says: It's taken me an eternity, but here's Chapter Six. ^^

Disclaimer: I own everyone except the charries from the movie, which I love to death and would never claim as my own.

* * *

Chapter Six- Boarded and Captured

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, eighty-four miles off the coast of Guilder**

**An hour or so later**

"SO, HOW IS it that the both of you would like to be killed? Choose wisely, as this will be the last decision you will ever make."

Caterina swallowed, gripping Antonio's hand tightly as they stood on the deck of the pirate ship, surrounded by all of Roberts' crew. She had never been so afraid in her entire life, and she was trying desperately to hide it from everyone but Antonio. Pirates were like dogs- they could smell fear from miles away, and the raw stench of panic excited them.

"Are you suggesting, Captain Roberts, that you are going to allow my wife and I to die together?" Antonio said calmly, lying better than Caterina would have ever anticipated.

Roberts stared at him for a moment, a muscle jerking in his jaw. "You… you two are _married?"_

"Oh, yes, captain. Caterina and I were married several years ago, and have decided to spend our lives traveling the world together in our small, merchant ship."

Caterina suddenly wanted to throw him down on the deck of the ship and kiss him with all the strength she could muster, but that wasn't exactly the most prudent thing to do at the moment.

A slight murmur of confusion rippled through the ranks of the pirates. From what Caterina could gather, they couldn't understand why Roberts was taking so long to announce their execution and carry it out. Surely they couldn't be anyone special.

The Dread Pirate Roberts _never_ took prisoners.

A small, angelic woman pressed a hand to Roberts' arm, her dark lips narrowing into a thin line. He glanced down at her, letting his gaze linger for a moment longer than was necessary, and brushed her off, turning away.

The woman looked at Caterina and Antonio, sighing softly.

Antonio squeezed Caterina's fingers.

"Captain, sir, are we going to kill them or-"

"Oh, shut up, Alejandro, or _you'll_ be the one worrying about murder," Roberts snapped.

"Y-yes, captain."

"Rob- I mean, Captain Roberts," the small woman said gently, "could I speak with you, alone?"

Roberts grunted and muttered something in agreement. He led the woman to a door without saying a word, and the two of them disappeared belowdeck , presumably to "speak" with each other.

"God in heaven," Alejandro groaned. "We've got two prisoners here, waiting to be killed, and our captain has to go running off to satisfy his urges."

Well, that certainly explained the reason why Roberts had agreed to listen to the woman. Caterina felt awkward. "What's her name?"

"What?"

"Her name."

"Rosalina," Alejandro replied. "And I'm not sure, but I think it means 'distraction'. The captain hasn't been able to get a single thing done with _her_ around."

He was bitter; unnecessarily bitter. Bitter as a lover scorned- perhaps Roberts had cast him off in favor of Rosalina? Or, perhaps Caterina was reading too much into it. She had only ever known one man to like another man, after all, and that had been in Venice. They'd been going by in a gondola, when she glimpsed two men having sex in an alley.

Vizzini had told her they were fighting.

Antonio opened his mouth to speak, and then quickly closed it, as if he had completely forgotten what he had wanted to say- or changed his mind. "He's going to kill us, then?"

"Well, that's the idea, yeah."

Alejandro really _was _upset about Rosalina, wasn't he? "Were you his lover?"

She immediately wanted to slap herself.

"No, no, no, no, no! _God,_ no!" He rolled his eyes. "I was his closest friend- we were practically brothers- and then he went and cast me off for the little Spanish castaway."

"Oh," Caterina said, "I'm sorry."

"She's really not very bright," Antonio added, shooting Caterina a warning look.

"No, I'm not."

Alejandro crossed his arms and sighed. "I just don't understand what he sees in that woman… her head's as empty as a flowerpot…"

Caterina exchanged glances with Antonio. The man wasn't even listening to them anymore.

A few minutes later, Roberts and Rosalina emerged from belowdeck. Rosalina was looking directly at them, a slight smile turning the corners of her lips, but Robert's face was downcast, his expression dark.

"We've decided to let you live," he grunted, "but on the condition that you become our servants."

Caterina was greatly relieved. "Of course."

"Thank you, Captain Roberts," Antonio said. "It will be a pleasure to serve you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, remember that. Alejandro, direct Caterina and, uh…"

"Antonio."

"Direct Caterina and Antonio to their quarters."

"Yes, captain."

Alejandro nodded to the couple and led them belowdeck. Caterina caught Rosalina's eye and smiled, but the woman didn't acknowledge that she had seen the grateful gesture.

* * *

Caterina sat on the edge of the bed she was now expected to share with Antonio, feeling her stomach twist. The only man she'd ever shared a bed with before had been Solanio, and he'd also been the only man she'd ever slept with. She trusted Antonio to a certain degree, but… it would still be awkward sleeping beside an almost-perfect stranger, a man she'd only known for a little over three months.

Antonio was busy helping Alejandro polish swords or something. She couldn't remember what he'd told her exactly, just that he would we gone for a little while, and she could take a nap or something. A nap? Ha. Did he honestly think she'd be able to sleep on the ship of the most feared pirate in the world?

Alejandro said that Rosalina wanted Caterina to be her maidservant. Antonio wasn't given a specific role, simply told that he would have to help out around the ship, and that he would do whatever Roberts asked of him if he wanted to stay alive. Caterina wondered why she hadn't been given instructions like that. As far as she knew, Rosalina hadn't threatened her.

Rosalina. Caterina's new mistress was young, beautiful, and Hispanic. That was all she knew for now. Would Rosalina be kind to her, or would she work her to the bone? What sorts of tasks would Caterina be required to carry out?

All of this pondering was giving the Sicilian a headache.

Caterina lay down and stretched out on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Antonio had been gone for an hour. What in the world could be taken so long? She was getting bored, wanted someone to talk to.

It was at that moment that a knock came at the door.

"Come in."

Caterina was on her side with her back towards the door, but she heard it creak open. "Caterina, are you busy?"

That voice. Rosalina? "No, I'm not."

Rosalina took a few steps forward, shutting the door behind her. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No, you're not."

"Good." Rosalina sighed. There was a slight pressure on the end of the bed as she sat down. "I need you to help me with something."

Caterina sat up, pulling her legs closer to her body to give Rosalina more room.

"I need you to, um, help me clean my cabin."

Cleaning was easy, especially as Caterina had been raised by a mother who deemed cleanliness next to godliness. Caterina looked at her mistress, smiling slightly. "Sure. That's what I'm here for, right?"

Rosalina bit her lip. "Uh, yeah. Follow me, please."

Rosalina's cabin was down at the opposite end of the ship, just across from Roberts'. Caterina remembered what Alejandro had revealed of Rosalina and Roberts' relationship. The cabin placement must have been very convenient for the both of them.

The cabin was small but well-furnished, and not at all dirty or messy. It contained a double bed, a desk with a candle, a chair, a dresser, and a mirror. Caterina studied the room carefully, and then glanced up at Rosalina for clarification. "Rosalina, this room is spotless."

She lowered her voice. "I know."

"Then why did you-"

"I need your advice, Caterina," Rosalina replied. "It's, um, it's about… Roberts."

So there it was. Rosalina didn't want a maidservant at all, but a friend. A _girl_ friend, someone who would listen to her, solve her problems, and give her advice on things… and it seemed that she'd chosen Caterina. "All right. What is it?"

The young woman sat down on the bed, patting the spot beside her for Caterina to sit down. "How old would you say Roberts is, Caterina?"

Odd question. "I don't know. Mid-thirties to early forties, I'd say."

"And how old do you think I am?" Her warm eyes were expectant.

"Twenty?" It was a wild guess. She looked much younger than Caterina herself, at any rate.

"I'm seventeen," Rosalina said softly. "_Only_ seventeen."

Oh. "You and Roberts…"

"We're in love."

"Have you two…"

Heat rose to Rosalina's face. "Y-yes."

The air grew still.

Seventeen. Dear God. She was still a child; younger than Caterina had been the first time she… "Did he… force you or anything?"

"No. Not at all."

"Well, then, what's the matter?"

"I'm worried, Caterina. He's old enough to be my father," Rosalina said. "And the men on the ship, they… talk."

Of course they talked. They were probably jealous of their captain. "Oh, Rosalina. What does it matter to you whether they talk or not? If it's true, and you're not ashamed- you're _not_ ashamed, are you?"

Rosalina shook her head.

"Then don't pay any attention. They're just trying to get a rise out of either you or the captain. It's not worth your time." Caterina was the voice of wisdom, speaking from experience. Back in Sicily, Solanio's jealous ex-lover had started a rumor that Caterina had slept with Solanio while her parents were away. It was true, of course, and her family had been upset, but Caterina herself hadn't minded after a while. If it was true, there was no way she could deny it, and in the end, she'd realized that it was a wasted effort to care about what other people thought, as long as _she _was happy. "Trust me, Rosalina. You'll be fine."

Rosalina smiled gratefully, relaxing as though a weight had fallen from her chest. "Thank you, Caterina."

"Any time, Rosalina" she said, and meant it. "Any time."

* * *

Why Roberts had allowed that couple to live was beyond him. Rosalina had been partially responsible for his lapse in judgment- he simply could _not_ think straight when she was around- but he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

There was talk aboard _The Revenge_ that the captain had gone soft. Maybe there was some truth to that rumor.

He swallowed hard, staring into the fireplace at the flames licking hungrily at the wood. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Antonio and Alejandro, busily sharpening and polishing swords, just as they had been for over an hour.

Alejandro, the friend he'd neglected lately.

Antonio, the man whose life he'd spared.

Himself… confused, self-contradictory.

A hypocrite.

Roberts swore sharply, and both men jumped. He addressed the pair without looking. "Alejandro, see that the cook begins dinner. Antonio, return to your cabin. You both are dismissed."

They set down the swords and left, each wondering why the captain was suddenly so upset. Alejandro said goodbye to Antonio and obediently made his way to the galley. Antonio nodded farewell and headed for his cabin- but not simply because Roberts had ordered him to.

He needed to talk to Caterina about something Alejandro had said.

Something that could jeopardize their carefully planned-out façade.

* * *

Skye Also Says: Ooh, _suspense! _Don't you just love it?

Thanks again, guys, for taking the time to read and review this story. Your feedback and support are what keep me going. =D

Later.


	7. Chapter Seven: Fight, Dream, Encounter

Skye Says: Let's see how Antonio and Caterina are adjusting to the servant lifestyle, shall we?

And for those of you who are curious as to the identity of the Dread Pirate Roberts… relax. You'll find out soon, I promise. ^^

* * *

Chapter Seven- A Fight, A Dream, and An Unfortunate Encounter

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, seventy miles off the coast of Guilder**

**The night of the Italians' capture**

It seemed to Caterina that Antonio was determined to ruin her life. "What do you _mean_ we're not 'convincing' enough? We're sleeping in the same bed, aren't we!"

"Keep your voice down," Antonio chided, shifting around in his chair at the desk. He'd just expressed concern that Alejandro was starting to see through their little game- the first mate had told Antonio earlier that he wanted Caterina when Antonio was done playing around with her. Antonio was angry, and that was understandable; if they were discovered, they would certainly be murdered. "I was simply remarking that we should try to be a little more… public if we want to avoid suspicion."

Caterina clutched the sheets to her chest. She'd already changed into her sleeping robe and had slipped beneath the covers early, anxious for sleep. The Sicilian had hoped that her roommate would be just as exhausted, but she'd been sorely disappointed. "What in God's name do you _mean_, Antonio? Venetians are always so vague, I swear."

He showed no sign of being offended. "Caterina, we need to act as if we're really a couple when we're out there. For a while, at least, we've got to lay it on thick so Roberts and his crew never catch on."

"You want me to kiss you in front of everyone," she said, more of a statement than a question.

"Well, you put it rather awkwardly, but yes, that's the general idea."

"Great." Caterina thought that maybe she had put too much sarcasm into that comment, judging by the pained look on Antonio's face. There was certainly no excuse for treating him so poorly, especially as he was only trying to ensure their safety, but she just… she just didn't know how else to respond. Truth be told, there was something strange and yet familiar curled up deep inside her- something associated with Antonio- and she wasn't quite sure she was ready to acknowledge it. Not yet, at least. Not now.

Antonio's face fell, and he turned away from her, presumably to write in the travel log he'd brought along with him.

She felt a pang of guilt. He was trying to hide that she'd hurt him, and he was failing miserably. That journal was probably the only thing keeping him sane right now- she wondered if her frequent rejections were eventually going to kill him.

Why had she suddenly become so hateful? Everything had been going along smoothly until-

The letter.

Roberts' letter to her had changed absolutely _everything,_ and her bloody, vengeful oath had created a rift inside of her, a bitterness that nothing could heal- and it was not only tearing _her _apart, but Antonio, too, and that conclusion nearly drove her to tears.

"I think I'll go abovedeck to get some air," she said weakly.

"No," Antonio breathed. "I'll go up. I shouldn't have disturbed you, I'm sorry."

He left the cabin before she could stop him, and Caterina was left alone to ponder her curious emotional state.

The people closest to her always seemed to get the raw end of the deal.

* * *

Caterina tried desperately to wait up for Antonio to return so that she could apologize, but after an hour, she began to lose hope. Her eyelids had been drooping ever since he left the room, and she had a hard time sitting up straight. What was taking him so long?

She was startled by a sudden knock at the door. "Yeah."

"Caterina, it's me, Rosalina." She poked her head in, squinting in the dim glow of the candle Antonio had lit. "I was just abovedeck. Your husband says he'd like to sleep under the stars tonight."

She really _had _hurt him, then. Poor Antonio. "Thank you."

She hesitated. "Is anything the matter?"

"No, not at all. Everything's fine," Caterina lied sleepily, sinking back down against the pillows. "_Buona notte_, Rosalina."

"Bonny _what?"_

I smirked. "_Buona notte. _It's Italian for 'goodnight.'"

"Well, then, _buenas noches_. That's Spanish."

"I know." Her father had taught how to speak Spanish as part of her "world education". The tutor her parents had found for her said that she would never use it, but Rosalina had just proved that wrong. "_Véale mañana."_

She was impressed. "See you tomorrow, Caterina."

The door softly clicked shut. Caterina closed her eyes, praying for sleep to come.

As soon as it did, however, she wished that it had never found her that night at all.

* * *

_Caterina reclined in a long gondola, bathed by summer sunlight. She wore a light, silky robe of some sort, and her dark hair fell down around her shoulders. She felt herself smile, happier than she'd been in quite some time._

_The man steering the gondola turned back and smiled at her, but the brim of his hat cast his face in shadow. It was impossible to decipher his identity, but Caterina got the feeling that this was someone she was very comfortable around, someone she trusted._

"_Weather's fair today, _bella,_ but not nearly as fair as yourself."_

_That voice was familiar, but she couldn't seem to place it. She let a contented sigh escape her lips and leaned back, relishing the warmth of the afternoon. "You shouldn't flatter me as often as you do, _mio amore. _You'll spoil me."_

"_Well, you deserve to be spoiled," he replied smoothly, pulling the pole out of the water and setting it down in the gondola. They were in a Venetian canal, Caterina realized, and it reminded her immediately of her father, of peace, of safety._

_The man made his way towards her, humming a song Vizzini used to sing to her when she was a child. He smiled again, murmuring Italian flattery- with Caterina lavishing the attention the whole time._

_After what seemed an eternity to the impatient young woman, he reached her, kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands in his. Caterina's stomach fluttered._

"_I love you, _bella. _You are my sky, my sea, my everything. Make me the happiest man in the world, _mio amore,_ and tell me you'll be my wife."_

_She smiled, and everything was bliss. "I thought you'd never ask."_

_He leaned in to kiss her, and a sudden breeze knocked the hat off his head._

_Caterina stopped breathing._

_The man was Antonio._

* * *

Rosalina's insistent voice woke her from her dream, combined with the commotion abovedeck. "Caterina! Wake up! We've made port and Roberts wants everyone off the ship." There was a slight pause. "He says there's a spring on this island, and I'm sure you'd like a nice, freshwater bath…"

Caterina smiled. When she'd been with Antonio on _The Merchant_, they'd simply hauled saltwater in to use as bath water. Her skin was so dry, and she was sick and tired of smelling like the ocean…"All right. I'll just get dressed, and then, I'll be out."

It would be wonderful to finally get to relax, Caterina mused. Ever since Solanio's death, she'd been nothing but stressed, and that had happened several years ago… though she could still feel the pain.

_Come on, Cat, woman up. It's time that you got over this._

She slipped quickly into an emerald gown and hastily began to pin up her hair.

There was another knock. "There's no time to do your hair," Rosalina quipped, as though she could see Caterina through the door. "If you're dressed, let's go."

"I'm coming." Caterina set down the pins, ran a brush through her hair, and eagerly headed out with Rosalina.

She would soon regret getting off the ship that morning.

Rosalina led Caterina inland through the trees and uphill a little bit until they reached an idyllic glade. A small spring gurgled within the glade, surrounding by several large stones.

"We can lay our clothes on top of these so that they can get some fresh air," Rosalina said brightly. "No one knows about this spring except Roberts, and he promised us total privacy."

Caterina took off her dress and began to unlace her corset. The water was so clear that she could see all the way to the bottom, and there was no doubt in her mind that the water would be cool, too. She couldn't wait.

Rosalina smiled at Caterina and began to take off her clothes, too, and then stopped. "_Maldición. _I forgot the soap." She shook her head, putting her shoes back on. "I'll be right back, Caterina. The captain gave me some soap for us to use, and I completely forgot it. Wait here."

Caterina nodded and removed the last scrap of fabric separating her skin from the tropical air. She felt freer than she had in a long, long time. "All right."

After Rosalina left, Caterina felt a little uncomfortable, so she stood up on one of the rocks and dove headfirst into the water. The water was just as amazing as she had anticipated- if not better. Her lungs burned after a while and she had to come up for air. Her head broke the surface of the spring, and she gasped.

Now that she thought about it, it would probably be a good idea to take off Solanio's necklace, too. If it ended up falling off and sinking to the bottom, she'd never be able to find it again. Deftly, she reached back and untied the knot, swimming over to the side of the spring and setting the necklace down on top of her clothes-

"Antonio!"

"_Scusi,_ Caterina, _spiacente_! I-I-I didn't kn-know you-"

"Stop looking! God!" Caterina swore violently and sank further down into the water, feeling her face grow hot.

Antonio averted his eyes, turning almost the same shade of red as Caterina. "_Sono perdono_. I was… uh, I just… Captain Roberts wanted me to find s-some water, and he suggested I travel in this direction."

"_No one knows about this spring except Roberts, and he promised us total privacy."_

… yeah, _right._

Rosalina was so _naïve_- they were the only two women on board, for God's sakes!

"Well, why don't you just run on back to Roberts and tell him that I don't appreciate his sense of humor," Caterina snapped, praying that Antonio wasn't close enough to really see her anymore.

Antonio faltered, looking at her again. "I-"

"Go!"

He stammered another apology and bolted into the forest, swearing to himself even as he disappeared out of sight.

Caterina had just finished getting dressed when Rosalina returned, holding a bar of soap.

"Oh," the Spaniard said softly, "is the water too cold?"

Caterina shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. "No, it's not cold at all. If anything-"

She was still blushing, even though fifteen minutes had passed.

- "it's way too _hot."_

Last night's dream had stirred up feelings Caterina was afraid to acknowledge, afraid to recognize, afraid to name…

… and her unfortunate naked encounter with Antonio hadn't been much help, either.

Caterina gathered up what remained of her dignity and glanced over at Rosalina. She was utterly _over _being on this wretched island. "Let's go back, Rosalina. Please."

"After I bathe," she replied cautiously.

So, the Italian young woman sat on a rock and waited for her mistress to finish, all the while pondering the strangeness of the past few months, and feeling slightly sick as she recalled the event that had taken place this afternoon.

* * *

Skye Also Says: It's a wonder I haven't neglected this story to write my RHPS fic. I'm glad- I think I'm in love with this thing now. I _love _it.

Thanks for sticking with me thus far, guys, and I hope to see you all in the end.

Oh, and if you like Rocky Horror, you should also check out my fic, Rhapsody: A Plaything, a Dreamer, a Rebel. Just sayin'… =D


	8. Chapter Eight: Scuffling and a Secret

Skye Says: I'm back! Here's chapter eight, and I'm sorry, but you won't find out who Roberts is until later...

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Eight—Scuffling and a Secret

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, fifty-two miles off the coast of Guilder**

**Three days after the naked-in-the-spring incident**

Caterina was helping Rosalina make up the bed when she heard muffled swearing and shouting from upstairs. She listened for a moment, and then went back to her work, assuming that it was simply an exchange between some of the pirates. Rosalina, however, didn't resume her work as eagerly, but continued to listen, her face paling.

"Caterina," she said softly, "That's Antonio and Alejandro."

The Sicilian could tell that this information was significant solely by the tone of her mistress' voice, but she could not seem to grasp what was so urgent. The clean linen brushed against her fingertips as she ran her hands over the sheet, saying nothing.

"Caterina!"

"Good God, Rosalina! What's gotten into you?" Caterina anxiously punched a pillow into submission and dashed it against the headboard. The shouting above was increasing in volume and intensity. "What are they bloody fighting about!"

"You," the Spainiard said flatly, and Caterina knew she was telling the truth.

The bed could wait until later, Rosalina assured her as she toyed with the edge of the sheet. "Go see what's going on, Caterina. They'll stop fighting as soon as they see you." She herself had seen firsthand the influence a beautiful woman could have on a living man, and it was no secret that the two men had feelings for her. "Go on, before one of them gets killed."

Caterina dropped the sheet and hurried out of the room.

* * *

Antonio had the sword pointed straight at Alejandro's heart, his fierce eyes narrowed in anger. Just when things were going so smoothly, Alejandro had felt the need to screw it all up. He'd remarked that Caterina had a nice body and asked Antonio if he'd been able to "enjoy the ride" lately. Their light banter had dissolved into swearing and violence, but Antonio's indignance numbed him to Alejandro's blows. He'd only pulled out the sword after Alejandro figured out that Antonio and Caterina were merely acting, and then threatened to out the Italians to Roberts.

"If you don't shut up, you'll have a blade through your heart," Antonio hissed

"And if you don't shut up, I'll be inclined to out you in front of the captain, and take your lovely little 'wife' back to the bed in my own cabin!"

"You're lucky I haven't run you through—"

The door flew open and smacked against the wall. Caterina stood in the doorway, eyes going wide at the intensity of the scene before her. Alejandro was set in a low crouch, ready to ward off a blow, Antonio was aiming a sword at Alejandro's chest, and both men were bruised, battered, and otherwise injured. So they really _had_ been fighting, then. "What in Mother Italy is going on here?"

The men froze, slowly swiveling their heads towards their visitor. Alejandro relaxed, but curiously, Antonio still did not lower his blade. The Venetian spoke first, his gaze meeting Caterina's almost reluctantly. "I was, uh, defending your honor," he said shyly.

"Oh, you were, were you?" For some reason, his response annoyed her. She couldn't see Alejandro saying anything to compromise her "honor", and she couldn't see Antonio ever wanting to defend her, either. Caterina reached over and took hold of the doorknob, absently twisting the cool brass in her fingers. "Next time you 'defend my honor', Antonio, would you mind not pointing swords at people?"

Antonio blinked, lowering his eyes as he simultaneously lowered the weapon. He really _had_ been looking out for her, but there was nothing he could say to make her believe him short of just coming right out and confessing his feelings. _I don't want to play this game anymore, Caterina. I don't want to act, I want the real thing. _No, she would never believe him. "I'm sorry."

If Caterina heard him, she gave no indication. "Alejandro, I thought you were supposed to be helping Captain Roberts with something."

He stiffened. "I am."

"Then go and do it, please. I don't want him jumping down anyone's throat just because his lousy first mate couldn't do what was expected of him." Alejandro shot her a look, but Caterina shrugged it off. "Go, Alejandro. I'll be sure to talk some sense into my husband."

_Husband._ The term stung Antonio's ears, but only because it wasn't the truth. Alejandro glared at him, brushed past Caterina, and disappeared out of sight, cursing under his breath. Antonio let the sword drop from his hand and clatter to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" Caterina asked.

"Nothing some fresh air can't fix." Antonio slipped back into the shirt he'd taken off and gingerly touched the bruise on his cheek. When he tried to walk out of the cabin, Caterina caught his wrist and turned his hand over. "You're bleeding, Antonio."

He grunted and tried to pull away, but her grip was unrelenting. "Let me go, _signora._"

"Just let me look at your hand, and then you and I can get as far away from each other as possible."

_We don't have to leave the room to do that,_ Antonio brooded. _It feels like we're _always_ miles apart._ Nonetheless, the sailor allowed Caterina to examine his palm, silently giving his consent by remaining in the cabin.

_I keep shutting him out,_ Caterina thought to herself as her slim fingers traced across Antonio's skin. _No wonder he doesn't want to be around me—I haven't said one kind thing to him in months. _Honestly, it wouldn't kill her to at least be civil. Antonio _had _saved their lives, after all, by pretending that they were a couple. "How did this happen?" she asked finally, gently probing the edge of a deep cut.

He winced, and more blood welled to the surface. "It's from the sword. It slipped when I went to grab it."

"I see."

It wasn't always going to be like this, was it? Caterina and Antonio, shutting each other out, quarreling and fighting and arguing with each other, until the day their paths diverged somewhere and they went their separate ways? A strange notion, albeit a major possibility—that is, if the current state of affairs were any precursor to the future.

Caterina bit her bottom lip. _I'm as stubborn as my father._

Antonio gritted his teeth against the pain as Caterina applied pressure to his wound in an effort to staunch the flow of blood. She then wordlessly ripped a strip of fabric from the sleeve of her gown and wrapped it tight around his hand. He had no idea why she was doing this—why she cared enough to even bother with him—but he couldn't say he minded it. The only attention he'd received from Caterina lately had been negative, and since the stumbling-upon-Caterina-naked-in-the-spring incident, he'd done his best to avoid her altogether. Now, she was patching up his wounds. Unbelieveable.

Caterina noticed his pain, and smiled reassuringly. "Almost done, I promise."

He grunted noncommittally, flexing his hand when she eventually released it. The wound still stung a bit, but at least it wasn't open and bleeding everywhere anymore. Maybe Caterina had even saved him from infection. _Maybe I should thank her for this._

"I need to get back to helping Rosalina now," Caterina said. "We were in the middle of making the bed, and we're supposed to dust her cabin today, too."

"Oh, yeah." Antonio stared down at his makeshift bandage. _What's wrong with you, man? Quit making small talk and thank her! _"Um, Caterina, I… I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate—"

"I'll see you later today, then. Goodbye." Caterina nodded to him and headed out into the hallway, and Antonio, like a complete fool, simply stood there with his mouth open.

* * *

"Captain Roberts has invited you and I to have dinner with him tonight, Caterina. He's already had a bath drawn for us, and I think you should be able to fit into one of my dresses."

Caterina looked up from the shirt she'd been mending. It was one of Antonio's older shirts, she guessed, judging by its wear and the strong scent of the sea that seemed to permeate all the air in the cabin—then again, she supposed that the fact that they were in the middle of the ocean also contributed to the smell. She wasn't even sure why she was fixing the shirt, anyway, except that she was perhaps trying to make amends for the way she'd been treating him. "What?"

"We're having dinner with the captain. Come with me, and we'll go to my cabin and bathe, and then we'll see if I have a gown to suit you."

"That's not necessary," Caterina said. "I have a few dresses—"

"You've been wearing the same three dresses for months," Rosalina pointed out.

Three hours later, both women were bathed and dressed, their hair brushed out and neatly pinned up. Rosalina had chosen a ruby-colored, empire-waist dress for herself and an emerald, drop-waist dress for Caterina—cut lower than anything she'd worn since Solanio's death. It made the Sicilian feel, in a word, provocative, and it was a feeling she was slowly beginning to appreciate.

"You look radiant," Rosalina chirped as she and Caterina made their way to Captain Roberts' private dining cabin. "Your husband won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

The last part of the compliment stung. When Rosalina had asked why Caterina and Antonio, her "husband", weren't really talking to each other—and why Antonio was now sleeping abovedeck instead of in bed with Caterina—Vizzini's daughter had lied just as smoothly as her father had once lied and said that she and Antonio were simply having "marital problems."

"And Roberts' won't be able to take his eyes off of you." Caterina smiled at her mistress. Rosalina smiled back graciously, and for the first time since arriving on the ship, Caterina felt that she knew someone she could trust.

Upon arriving in the cabin, Caterina and Rosalina were greeted by Roberts, Alejandro, and Antonio, all of whom smiled and stood as the women entered. All of the men were clean and dressed, and Caterina was surprised to notice that Antonio had shaved off his perpetual stubble. She tried to smile at him to make their earlier conversation seem unimportant, but he refused to even meet her eyes.

Roberts pulled out a chair for Rosalina. Antonio made no move to help Caterina, so she brushed past him and went over to the other side of the table. Alejandro jumped up almost instantly, grinning as he helped Caterina into her chair. "You look lovely tonight," the first mate remarked. "It's a shame that you're a married woman."

Without looking, Caterina knew that Antonio was unnerved by the comment.

Well, if he was so intent on not acknowledging her presence, she was just going to have to show him what he was missing. To add insult to injury, Caterina fluttered her eyelashes. "Why, thank you, Alejandro. You look rather handsome yourself."

Antonio's hand imperceptibly tightened into a fist. _She's playing with fire, and she's going to get burnt. If she only _knew _the sorts of things Alejandro says about her…_

Roberts ordered the first course brought out. The rich aroma of vegetable stew filled the spacious cabin, and Caterina suddenly realized how hungry she was. The moment her bowl was set down in front of her, she snatched up a spoon and began to eat.

"My, my," Roberts said wryly. "She'll eat you out of house and home, Antonio."

_She's eating out my heart, _the Venetian brooded.

They continued their meal amiably, with Roberts doing most of the talking. Rosalina laughed at nearly everything he said, Antonio said nothing, and Alejandro seemed content just to stare at Caterina, who looked up every few minutes to catch his eye, and then smiled shyly and looked away. _Flirting. I'm flirting with the Dread Pirate Roberts' first mate just to screw with Antonio. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. _Strangely, though, she didn't care. She deserved to have a little fun after what she'd been through these past several months, didn't she?

"You're not very talkative tonight, Antonio," Roberts said suddenly.

"Sorry, captain. I'm not feeling well. I think it's… homesickness."

A wave of indignant rage surged over Caterina's body. She glowered at Antonio from across the table, a thousand curses rolling through her mind. _Homesickness? Homesickness! Oh, God, how I could just _kill _him right now for even bringing that up—_

"If you'll excuse me," Antonio added, standing up and shoving his plate away, "I believe I need some fresh air." He looked at Caterina for a long, uncomfortable moment, and then nodded to Roberts and walked out of the room.

"Well, then," Rosalina said.

Caterina took a long, slow sip of wine and pretended that nothing had happened, despite the fact that her face was now a glowing red.

Alejandro continued to stare at her.

* * *

"What in _Hades _do you think you're doing?"

Antonio glanced up from his journal and saw Caterina standing in the doorway, clearly incensed. His brow furrowed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You do, too!"

"Don't raise your voice like that. People will think—"

She slammed the door shut behind her. "People will think _what_, Antonio? Honest to God, I just wish that for once in your life you could finish a sentence without cutting yourself off!"

He slammed the journal shut, matching her intensity, but he refused to yell at her. "I don't understand what you think _you're _doing, Caterina. We're supposed to be a _married couple_, for God's sakes, and here you are trying to jeopardize our position." When she just blinked at him, he added. "Don't think I didn't see you making eyes at Alejandro."

So that's what this was, then. The Venetian was jealous of a pirate. "What do you care? I guess it never even occurred to you that women like to be paid attention to—and if we don't get that kind of _attention_ from our, ahem, 'husbands', then we seek it someplace _else_."

Not with him. Not with Alejandro. "It isn't _safe_, Cat."

"You won't even come within three feet of me anymore—"

"Alejandro's been saying all kinds of things about—"

"—and God _forbid_ it if I should speak to you! Antonio, do you understand how hard it is for me to even—"

"_Shut up, shut up, you stupid woman! I've had enough of this _insanity_!"_

Caterina started as he threw the journal against the wall beside her head. Panic shot through her veins, and she glanced over at Antonio with wide-eyes, appalled by his sudden passion.

"You think you're the only one who has feelings," he said almost inaudibly, "but I don't want this to be a charade anymore, _bella. _I really _do_ care about you."

_Bella. _He'd called her beautiful again, a term he hadn't used since before their capture, when they had finally begun to cooperate. Caterina felt the panic in her blood turn to wonder, felt herself floating, met Antonio's gaze in awe. Solanio had been the only man to ever confess his love for her, and compared to Antonio's admission, her late fiancé's proclamation seemed very insignificant indeed.

"Antonio." Moonlight filtered in from the porthole, illuminating the side of his face. In that precise moment, Caterina swore he was an angel. "I am so, so sorry."

He shook his head, anguish razoring the edges of his voice. "You don't need to be sorry. I just wanted to say that."

And before she could reply, Antonio left again, presumably because he needed relief that only salty sea air could provide, a relief that really only Caterina could fulfill, but that she would never be able to give, even if she had wanted to, because she had already broken his heart.

* * *

Skye Also Says: =(


	9. Chapter Nine: Honesty, Turmoil

Skye Says: I popped this baby out fast, now, didn't I? Ha ha ha.

Read on, kiddies, and please enjoy the angst.

* * *

Chapter Nine—Blatant Honesty and Inner Turmoil

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge  
**_**The sea, thirty-one miles off the coast of Guilder  
Fourteen days later**

It only took two weeks for Caterina to start sleeping with Alejandro. At first, she told herself that she really liked him, that she wasn't just messing around, that she wasn't trying to displace the sexual tension between her and Antonio, but then, she realized what an awful lie that was. Not that it mattered either way—no, she was happy now, and she got along much better with Alejandro than she ever had with Antonio—but still, there was that nagging voice in the back of her head…

**Antonio has actual **_**feelings **_**for you, Caterina. Do you honestly think **_**Alejandro**_** cares for you that deeply?**

_No, _she'd answered back, _of course he doesn't. _And a damp, cold fear would ripple down her backbone.

But it was all the same to Alejandro, who attributed Caterina's chills to the temperature of the cabin.

* * *

Antonio couldn't take much more of it.

The Venetian paced at the foot of the bed he had once shared with Caterina, swearing vehemently in Italian. Caterina had not been back to the cabin in days, and he was beginning to worry that she was never going to return. For the past few weeks, she'd been sneaking around with Roberts' no-good first mate, and rumors had popped up to explain the strange noises coming from Alejandro's cabin—

Antonio stretched out his arm and swept everything off of the desk. His journal, the lantern, and several books dropped to the floor; the lantern shattered and shards of glass flew everywhere. Nothing he had ever experienced came close to the kind of pain he felt now, the hot-blooded rage, the sheer agony. _I told that pigheaded woman that I _loved _her, for the love of God, and what does she do? She gives herself over to Alejandro to do with as he pleases, just as he's dreamed of doing since we two came aboard!_

All was _not_ was in love in war, or else he certainly wouldn't have gotten the short end of the stick. Antonio had never truly loved anyone else in his entire life, and now that his confession had been totally ignored, he came to the conclusion that he never wanted to be in love again. Love was the cruelest form of torture known to man—when not reciprocated, it seared a hole in a man's heart wider and deeper than the darkest pits of hell.

Antonio stopped pacing. He knelt down and picked up his travel log, sat down at the desk, and furiously began to write.

Even in silence, he felt himself screaming.

* * *

Caterina lay sprawled out in bed beside Alejandro, trying to even out her breathing as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Solanio was the only other man she had ever slept with, and even now, she was amazed at how very different the two men were from each other. Solanio had been careful, loving, and gentle. Alejandro, on the other hand, seemed to treat the act as some sort of battle—and the faster and more aggressive the fighting, the better. She had bruises up and down her arms and neck to illustrate that point, and it was a miracle she could even walk properly anymore.

Alejandro chuckled lightly, turning over on his side to face Caterina. He gave her a quick once-over, raising an eyebrow. "You're all right, aren't you?"

"I'll be fine," she replied in annoyance. _You're all right, aren't you? _He always asked her that question after, as though she were some glass ornament he was terrified to break. Hm. He certainly didn't _handle _her like something fragile.

"You're angry."

"No, I'm fine."

"Fine, fine, _fine. _I hate it when you say that." He rolled back over onto his back. "It always means you're upset."

"Or maybe it just means I'm all right, and you're completely overanalyzing things." She let her eyelids fall closed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The crew was eating right above their heads—she could hear their heavy footfalls, their loud, boisterous laughter—and in spite of herself, she was very, very hungry.

Alejandro was quiet for a moment. He didn't speak again until Caterina was nearly asleep. "What are you so mad at me for lately?"

"Who's mad?" Caterina pressed her lips together, reaching for her clothes on the nightstand. She sat up slowly and pulled the dress over her head. "I'm not mad." Then, she got out of the bed and put on her boots, glancing at her reflection in the mirror before ducking out of the cabin. "_You're _the one who's mad."

Alejandro sat up and watched her go. He knew she had a point, but he just didn't get it. All _he _knew was that Caterina was a very complicated woman, and if he wanted to keep her coming back to his bed, he was going to have to learn to shut up.

* * *

"You're having sex with him, aren't you?"

The question caught Caterina completely off-guard, though she supposed she should've expected it. That's what she got for coming crawling back to Antonio. "I don't believe that's any of your business, Antonio."

He withheld the urge to slap her as she continued to pack her clothes into the trunk. _I'm moving to Rosalina's cabin, _she told him. _There's more room there, and I can come and go as I please, without being interrogated every time I come back. _Well, did she think he hadn't figured it out yet? _Everyone _knew that she and Alejandro were together!

"Hand me that necklace on the dresser."

When Antonio didn't move, Caterina muttered a curse and retrieved the jewelry herself. She put the necklace around her neck and admire it a little before returning to her task.

A muscle jerked in Antonio's jaw. "Our lives are at stake, you know."

"What are you talking about?"

"If Roberts finds out that you've been visiting Alejandro's bed, he'll figure out we're faking it."

She shook her head. "No, he'll just think you're not very good in the sack."

"Caterina," he hissed, "stop messing around. We've been doing so well—"

"I don't _care _how 'well' we've been doing! Every minute we spend entertaining Roberts is another minute I _die_ a little inside, Antonio!" She took a few steps towards him, he took a few steps back—her intensity was frightening. "Do you realize that the very man we're working for is the same man who _murdered _my father? Do you understand now? Do you?" He lowered his gaze. "_Answer me_!"

"No," he said quietly.

"I can't hear you!"

"No, I _didn't_ know that Roberts killed your father! _God_, Caterina, what is _wrong_ with you?" Antonio grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her so hard that her teeth clacked together. He kept shaking her until she cried out, and then, he saw his hand flash out and strike her across the cheek. Mortified, the Venetian tried to catch her before she fell, but she shoved him away, landing across the bed with a soft _thud._

"Caterina… I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me…"

When she looked at him, her cheeks were wet with tears. "What happened to caring about me, huh?"

Caterina's words stuck a dagger through Antonio's heart. How could he express his frustration with her, with Alejandro, with _himself_? Now that he'd hit her, she was never going to trust him again, let alone return his feelings. Things were looking even worse than they had earlier, and he only had himself to blame for that.

"_Bella,"_ he tried again. "I didn't meant to hurt you. I just… wanted your attention, I guess. Sometimes—" Antonio went over to the water pitcher and dipped a cloth into the cool liquid, handing it to Caterina to press against her stinging cheek. _She's even beautiful when she cries. "—_Oh, I wish we could just talk about everything."

She accepted his peace offering somewhat reluctantly, wincing as the fabric touched her skin. Accident or not, it really stung. "Who says we _can't_ talk about everything?"

_Is she actually listening to me now? _"You just haven't been very… accommodating, so I assumed that you didn't want to hear me out."

"I didn't even know you had anything to say." _Let's add _lying _to my ever-growing list of sins, then. My father would be so ashamed._ Caterina bit her lip and sat up on the bed, resting her hands in her lap. "What do you want to talk about, Antonio?" She wasn't sure why she'd asked him that, either—she knew _exactly _what he wanted to discuss.

He took a deep breath. "I want to talk about Alejandro."

_Of course you do. _"What about Alejandro?"

"I want to know if you're sleeping with him." There it was. _And that's not all… _"And tell me the truth, Caterina, because I don't know who to believe anymore."

"Fine," Caterina said. "I _am _sleeping with him, Antonio. I'm having sex with Alejandro, and there's nothing you can do about it." _So there._

Antonio stopped breathing. He'd been suspicious of the rumors at first and had tried his best to ignore the gossip—insisting that it couldn't be true—but now that Caterina had laid all her cards out of the table… _Why does this hurt if I knew it was coming? _he asked himself. _Why do I even care what she does anymore? _He knew the answer, of course; he just didn't want to allow himself to look at her that way again. She no longer deserved his attentions.

Caterina grabbed another gown and dropped it into the trunk. She combed her fingers through her tangled hair and rolled the trunk over to the door. One last glance at Antonio, and she would be off. In the space of a second, their eyes met, and Caterina realized that he was still in shock. "Well," she remarked, "aren't you even going to say anything?"

"Yes, I am," Antonio replied. "I never should have picked you up in Sicily."

She was absolutely dumbfounded.

"Or, if nothing else, I should've taken you up on that offer to be my whore, because apparently, you're everyone _else_'s."

Caterina's cheeks flamed. "Antonio, please, you can't honestly mean—"

"I mean everything I ever say, ever," he countered coldly. "Now get out of my cabin and run off to your filthy pirate before I enlighten Roberts to your sin."

"I—"

"_Out!"_

The door slammed shut with such violence that a glass paperweight toppled from the desk and smashed into a thousand angry pieces, each more bitter than the last.

* * *

Alejandro went out to play cards since Caterina told him she "wasn't in the mood." Meanwhile, the young Sicilian woman lay back against the pillows and drifted off into introspection.

**Why do you treat him so poorly, Caterina?**

_I don't know, I really don't. Maybe… I'm afraid of becoming too attached—_

**And losing him like you lost Solanio?**

Reluctantly, she answered, _Yes._

**Antonio is in love with you**, the voice persisted.

_Yes, I know._

**Then why do you treat him so **_**poorly?**_

_Because I'm mad at Roberts for killing my father, and I'm mad at my father for dying; I'm mad at myself for not getting to Humperdinck in time, and I'm mad that Antonio is so incredibly wonderful that I could never earn the right to his love!_

So that was it, that was really _it. _The conflict that had been simmering deep within her subconscious for months had finally risen to the surface, and with it, a tide of unexpected anxiousness.

**You need to talk to him, Cat. You need to tell him everything you've been afraid to tell yourself before now. You need to let him know how much he really means to you.**

Caterina smiled to herself as a pleasant warmth flooded her veins. _I will,_ she promised herself and the voice. _And I'll never sleep with Alejandro again._

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Caterina got out of bed and went over to let Alejandro in—only to realize that Alejandro was actually _Antonio,_ and that Antonio was staring at her with an odd mix of hope and regret in his eyes.

"We need to talk again," he said simply, and that phrase presented the promising opportunity that Caterina had been hoping for.

* * *

Skye Also Says: Finally, I end a chapter on a _happy _note. =P


	10. Chapter Ten: Making Up

Skye Says: This chapter's short. I know, just deal with it.

I have a feeling you'll like it, anyway…

* * *

Chapter Ten—Making Up

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' Ship, _The Revenge  
_****Five minutes later**

"I love you, Antonio. I've been afraid to say it for way too long, and I'm still a little scared, but I'm falling in love with you, and I'm sorry I've been so terrible to you." Finally, Caterina had taken charge of her own destiny. She'd confessed her fears and emotions, and had been completely honest with Antonio. Well, it was about time. If her father had been disappointed before, she was sure he would be quite proud of her now. "I mean it, Antonio. I love you."

Antonio felt his jaw drop, saw himself watching the scene from high above the cabin as though he were having an out-of-body experience. When he'd knocked on Caterina's door—or Alejandro's door, rather—the last thing he'd expected was to hear something like that. Granted, he'd been waiting for her to say she loved him for almost forever, but still, it was all so surreal. His first words to her were, "Are you just messing with me?"

She was almost hurt, until she remembered that he had good reason to doubt her. "No, Antonio. I'm serious, I promise." Really, though, was she so unconvincing? It wasn't as though she ran around declaring her love to every man she saw!

"Really."

"Yes, I swear it."

There was a pause. He still didn't believe her. "Would you swear it on your father's grave?"

"Yes," Caterina said unfalteringly, "I would indeed swear it on my father's grave."

They both knew she meant business now. Antonio struggled to draw a breath as he looked into Caterina's eyes. Never in his life had he imagined that moment would come—the moment when the woman he'd been in love with for months finally announced the feeling was mutual. It _had _to be a dream.

Caterina's brow furrowed as she watched Antonio pinch himself. Then, she realized that he thought her admission was too good to be true, and smiled, taking his hand. "You're not dreaming, Antonio. I'm real, you're real, this—" She squeezed his fingers. "—is real." He didn't say anything, but continued to stare at her. She added, "If you're waiting for me to yell at you again, it isn't going to happen."

"You're so beautiful," was his only reply.

That was the first time Caterina kissed him. The gesture was as tentative as it was reassuring, a tender moment in time that made an unexpected warmth melt away part of the ice covering Caterina's heart.

It was the first time the couple kissed, but it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Alejandro took the news surprisingly well, Caterina thought. Immediately after making up with Antonio, she'd gone straight to the galley to talk to Alejandro, and she'd then proceeded to tell him that she was moving out of his room because she and Antonio had sorted things out.

Alejandro responded to that news by swearing, throwing down his hand of cards--a losing hand, Caterina noticed, and downing three pints of ale. She was later informed that he passed out shortly after her departure from the room, and when he awoke, he had nearly forgotten all about the incident.

Caterina considered it a small miracle that no harm had come to anyone.

That very hour, the Sicilian packed her trunk back up and wheeled it into the room she'd started out in, the room she'd be sharing with her "husband".

Antonio sat on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. "Welcome back, roommate."

She shut the door behind her and sat down without saying a word—but, then again, there was nothing that needed to be said. Words were troublesome things, always spoiling moments. No, they didn't need words at all, because what they had found in each other was so much better than language could ever hope to express.

Antonio smiled again and kissed her, and Caterina knew she had done the right thing.

* * *

Skye Also Says: Told you it was short. Ah, well. You didn't care, after all, did you? =D

The next chapter will be super long, I promise.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Tension and Confession

Skye Says: Chapter eleven! I'm just popping 'em out left and right, aren't I?

* * *

Chapter Eleven—Tension and Confession

**The Dread Pirate Roberts ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, twenty miles off the coast of Guilder**

**A few days later**

It was easier for Caterina to kiss Antonio when no one else was around to see them. She'd allowed him to touch her shoulder or her hair or hold her hand in public previously. He still did, but now that they were officially a couple, the public displays of affection made Caterina self-conscious. She was afraid to get close to another man, and the rate at which their relationship was progressing concerned her. The hurt in Antonio's eyes told her she was being unreasonable, and when he went to kiss her in front of Roberts, she gave him her cheek instead, but she couldn't help him. She was hurting him, she knew, but she just couldn't _help_ it.

In the privacy of their cabin one afternoon, Antonio confronted her about it. "I don't understand why you can't play the role. It should be _easier_ now, not harder, for you and I to act convincingly."

"I told you, Antonio, it's not my fault." She crossed and uncrossed her legs anxiously. "My parents… discouraged displaying affection in public." Lies, lies, lies. What was wrong with her lately?

"I'm your husband, Cat. It shouldn't matter that—"

"We're not really married!"

"Stop shouting at me!"

Caterina crossed her arms over her chest and focused her gaze on the floor. Antonio sat beside her on the bed, but the two were still worlds apart. They had come so far these past few days and had almost nothing to show for it. Pathetic.

Antonio sighed and swallowed the lump in his throat. Why couldn't they talk about _anything?_ Even after they'd "made up"—and come significantly close to sleeping together—Caterina just kept twisting the knife. She was so volatile and so stubborn… all Antonio wanted was to demolish the wall between them and kiss the life out of her and get her to understand what he meant by _I love you_. Was that really too much to ask?

He guessed so.

"I'm going to see if Rosalina needs me for anything," Caterina said curtly. "I'll see you at dinner, I suppose."

"No, you'll see me _now,_ because I'm not letting you go anywhere until we've sorted this mess out once and for all." He made it over to where she was standing at the door and reached for her arm. She stiffened under his touch. "Caterina."

She closed her eyes, annoyed, but she didn't pull away."

"Just listen to me, please."

"Antonio, I'm afraid," Caterina blurted out. "I'm afraid to fall in love with you because the last man I loved was murdered, and if I lost you, too, that kind of pain…" She tried to pull her arm free, but it was a half-hearted effort. "_Per favore_, just let me go. Please."

"I can't!" He shouted. "Don't you see I _can't_?" There was a strange desperation in his voice, an urgency that almost startled her. "I _love _you, _bella_. I love you and I want this to work. I can't let you go until I'm satisfied that you're all right—that _we're _all right. Does that make any sense to you at all?"

It made perfect sense to Caterina, but she was too stunned to say so immediately. Antonio loved her, Antonio _loved _her. _Her!_ The hardheaded wench from Siciliy! It was all too wonderful to be true, and yet, Caterina knew there was nothing but truth to the Venetian's words. It was liberating, redeeming, and reassuring to be loved in the way Antonio loved her.

Antonio pulled her into his arms, just holding her body against his. When she finally relaxed, he kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair. "I love you, Caterina, whether you let me show my feelings in public or not."

Caterina smiled. "Well, from now on, you can kiss me wherever and whenever you like."

"_Grazi, signora. _You are very kind to a young fool."

"Oh, stop. You're making me blush." And he was.

"You're beautiful." Antonio kissed her full on the mouth, his hands sliding down to rest on her waist. Caterina leaned into him and deepened the kiss, surprising even herself when she realized how much she _enjoyed _kissing him. Antonio groaned and pushed her against the wall—

Suddenly, the cabin door opened, and Alejandro poked his head in. "Antonio, Captain Roberts wants you… oh, my _God."_

Antonio stopped so abruptly that Caterina feared she was coming on too strong. Then, she noticed Alejandro, and awaited Antonio's response to this awkward situation. "Come back later," he said simply. Caterina's jaw dropped.

"What?" Alejandro wasn't used to being challenged. He didn't like it one bit.

"Doing what?"

"What does it look like I'm doing!"

Alejandro finally looked past Antonio to Caterina, and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He gaped at Caterina. "B-but you told me you hated that pigheaded Venetian bast—" He bit off the rest of his sentence, gritting his teeth. "I see."

Caterina saw the—was that _jealousy?—_in his eyes, but he disappeared before she could call him out on the emotion. It was better that Antonio didn't see that, she decided. The last thing he needed was to get in yet another fight with Alejandro. Roberts would have Antonio's head if he stirred up conflict again, especially with his first mate.

The door clicked shut, and Antonio slid the lock into place.

"Now," he said slyly. "Where were we?"

* * *

They didn't sleep together that afternoon. Nor did they sleep together that night, the next night, the next night. They didn't sleep together at all. Every time they were alone, they'd work they way up to the kissing, the bed, undressing… but once Antonio would slip Caterina's dress off her shoulders, she wasn't "in the mood anymore", or she was "just too tired". Those weren't the only reasons she didn't want to sleep with him, but they were the one she provided him because the reality sounded ridiculous, even to Caterina.

"You had sex with a pirate from God knows where, but you refuse to sleep with the man you love, the man you trust, the man who saved your life?" Antonio said one night after Caterina turned off the light and rolled over in bed.

"We're sleeping together tonight."

"You _know_ that's not what I'm talking about."

She did know, but she couldn't seem to say, _It's not me, it's you_, because he'd think she was lying, and she was lying now anyway, but still, she wouldn't go there.

Caterina pretended to be asleep so that he would drop the subject for tonight. She needed some time to think, time to figure out how to stop hurting him. She needed to stop hurting herself, too.

An hour later, sleep came, but her dreams were plagued by visions of the man who tried to love her, and when she awoke the next morning, she snuck out of the cabin because she couldn't face him until she knew what was happening to her.

* * *

The warm sea breeze tousled Caterina's hair as she leaned on the railing, staring off into the distance. High above the clouds, the moon cast an eerie glow on the sea, illuminating Caterina's soft features in a way she didn't deserve.

She was tearing Antonio apart. She didn't deserve anything anymore. By deceiving him and then turning him down without explanation, she was slowly shredding him to pieces. Over dinner, after he surprised her by pulling out her chair for her and standing when she walked in, Caterina decided that she would tell him the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

They loved each other. Relationships were built on trust. And she _did_ trust him. Inexplicably. So it only made sense that she remain totally honest with him—that's what she told herself, anyway. It didn't necessarily mean she was excited about baring her soul.

Antonio came abovedeck a few minutes later. Her heart pounded against her ribcage in an effort to escape when she saw him, and she tried to smile to combat her anxiety, but the muscles in her face had frozen. He nodded to her and approached, taking up the railing beside her.

"Hello."

It was a simple greeting, but for some odd reason, Caterina couldn't figure out the best way to respond to it. Any sane person would have said 'hello' back, but the gears in her mind had locked up with the dilemma of whether or not to reveal her secret, and instead of replying simply, she said the first thing that came to mind and the last thing she wanted him to know: "I'm scarred. I'm scarred, Antonio. I have scars across my stomach and my hips."

He regarded her so evenly that she knew he hadn't understood her, so she said it again. "I have scars. That's the reason I won't sleep with you."

Antonio blinked. He said nothing.

Caterina exhaled and left him. She went back to the cabin and crawled into bed.

Ashamed.

* * *

Skye Also Says: Trouble in paradise yet again. This time, Caterina has to overcome her inner conflict if she wants to be happy with Antonio.

Keep reading, and I hope you're all enjoying this as much as I am.

Until next time, kiddies.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Framed

Chapter Twelve—Framed

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, fifteen miles off the coast of Guilder**

**One day later**

Caterina was chopping up fish in the galley when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was a strong hand, rough and calloused, and she stiffened because it was a hand she recognized. Antonio's hand; warm, rough, and pleading.

"I don't care about your scars, Caterina. They mean absolutely nothing to me."

She closed her eyes and put down the knife. His lips brushed against her ear.

An instant later, the hand dropped, and Antonio walked out of the galley.

Caterina picked up the knife and resumed her work, but as she sliced up the fish, her hands were shaking.

* * *

The Dread Pirate Roberts was sound asleep in his bed when Alejandro cracked open the cabin door and slipped inside. His blood was still boiling from what he had seen a few short days ago, from seeing Caterina's face attached to Antonio's—after Caterina had sworn to Alejandro that she _hated _Antonio! Alejandro cursed internally at the recollection of the image. He was a pirate, sure, but he still had a shred of honor. He'd told Caterina he couldn't sleep with another man's wife, and Caterina had then exposed their secret, and added that she loathed Antonio with an unholy passion. And then they'd had _sex_—they had slept together—and on more than one occaision, too! Alejandro sizzled at the memories. He had a right to Caterina by default, and she had _still_ gone running off to Antonio!

Well, Antonio would be sorry he ever boarded _The Revenge,_ Alejandro mused as he found what he needed and ducked out the room.

They were both going to be so, so sorry.

* * *

The next morning, Roberts gathered the whole crew abovedeck for a special meeting he claimed was of "the utmost importance", adding that anyone who refused to attend would be "cleaned and gutted like a fish, and then tossed out to the sharks." Everyone took the captain to be a man of his word; therefore, the deck was packed to the gills as the sun began its heavenly ascent.

Roberts stood high above them on the upper deck, his expression so icy, everyone shivered. "I have had something taken from me," he said gruffly. "A very important something, which I treasure to a high degree. I ask that whomever has taken it either step forward and confess or return the item to me, lest they find themselves dying a slow, painful death. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a general chorus of "aye, captain"s, and Roberts seemed satisfied enough. "If I have been clearly understood, as you all have just assured me, then everyone is now dismissed. I shall expect the item in question returned to me by sundown. You may resume your work."

Caterina stood beside Antonio, still uncertain of their relationship. Had he meant what he said in the galley? Once he saw her scars... would he still be able to look at her? Slowly, she stretched her fingers toward his. He caught them and intertwined them with his own. Their eyes met.

She wanted to ask him about his comment in the galley, but she couldn't find the words. "What do you think he's had stolen?"

Antonio shrugged. "Could be anything, really—perhaps something relatively worthless with some sentimental value?"

"You're telling me Roberts _has _any sentiment?"

"We're still alive, aren't we?"

He had a point there. It was only a matter of time before their luck ran out. Caterina pushed that thought aside. "What are you supposed to do today?"

"Take stock of our supplies. Want to help?"

Her answer was non-committal: "If Rosalina doesn't need me." She still wasn't sure how to handle their evolving relationship. _I've never been comfortable with change. We need to slow down._

Antonio nodded. "Fine. I'll see you around, then." He pulled his hand free from hers and shuffled off to complete his mundane task, leaving Caterina alone with what remained of the crew.

Caterina hugged herself and began to look for Rosalina. _He's trying so hard to make this work for both of us. Why am I so reluctant to help him?_

* * *

Rosalina didn't end up needing Caterina for anything other than company. She talked her ear off for about two hours, the conversation topics ranging from romance to spirituality. Then, when she was satisfied that Caterina had listened for long enough, she released her with little more than a nod. "That's all for today, thank you."

Caterina was somewhat reluctant to leave her mistress' charge. Having used Rosalina as an excuse to avoid spending time with Antonio, she wasn't sure how she could get out of it now.

Antonio found her asleep on their bed. He sat down at her feet, and she turned over, groaning.

"Caterina."

"Go away."

"Where are they?"

Caterina sighed. "Where are what?"

"Your scars."

"I told you that already. Now please, leave me alone. I'm trying to take a nap."

Antonio persisted. "If you don't tell me where they are, Caterina, I won't believe you have any at all. I'll think you're lying."

"Stomach. Thighs. Didn't I say that already?"

"If that were the case, you wouldn't have slept with Alejandro."

She swore and rose from the bed. "What do you want with me? Why can't you just—"

"I want some honesty for a change. How are we supposed to survive if we can't even trust each other?" He took a step towards her, arms outstretched. "I am more than willing to understand whatever explanation you give me. All I ask is that you _do_ give me an explanation."

Caterina's lips quivered. She avoided eye contact and walked over to the dresser. The drawer slid open smoothly, revealing her hiding place. Her fingers leapt to the knife, wrapped around the hilt, and lifted it. "My father gave me this knife when I turned thirteen. He... wanted me to have it in case... in case any boy in Sicily gave me... trouble." She held the knife out to Antonio.

He took it, fingering the edge of the blade. "You've been using this to cut yourself?"

"Not anymore. I... after Solanio—" The air hitched in her throat. She swallowed. "After Solanio was murdered, I tried to kill myself." For the first time, she reached for him. He took her into his arms, sliding his hands down to meet hers. As he did so, he noticed a curious ripple in the flesh of her wrists.

He inhaled sharply. "Oh, _bella..._ _you're not telling me..._"

Caterina nodded and began to cry. She leaned against his chest as she sobbed, allowing him to hold her for as long as she deemed necessary. The silence trickled past them. At last, Caterina pulled away just enough to look into Antonio's eyes. "God... I love you. I love you so much, and it scares me out of my mind."

"I know."

She sniffed, hating to cry so much in front of him. She hated exposing herself, baring her soul, when she wasn't even sure... "Antonio, what happens next?" _I shouldn't be saying this... but I have to know._

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, what... what's going to change when we get off this ship?" Her voice shook. _Will you still care about me? Will you still protect me? Will you still love me, even when our lives no longer depend on our relationship?_

He bit his lip. "I don't know." Tension coiled in the air like spent smoke. "I... I wish I could give you an answer, but..." Antonio stroked her hair. "_Bella, mio amore..._ I just don't know."

"Will you still love me?"

A beat. The question was considered.

"Antonio?"

"Of course."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in that room, sitting on the bed, holding each other, and wondering about the future.

* * *

In the middle of the galley at dinner that evening, Alejandro announced that he'd discovered something interesting in the dresser in Antonio and Caterina's cabin. He added that this something was the same something that Roberts was so adamant about finding.

Roberts rose at once and his chair scraped against the deck. "Alejandro, you will not disclose the identity of this alleged 'something' except in the privacy of my own quarters."

It wasn't a question. Alejandro nodded and followed the captain out of the room, smirking as he passed Antonio.

Caterina exchanged glances with her companion. "What's he talking about?"

"How am I supposed to know? I didn't steal anything from Roberts."

"Well, neither did I."

"He'll gut ye both for sure," said a sailor on their left. "Whatever you took, he's got a strong likin' to, and you're going to pay dearly for stealin' it."

Antonio reached for Caterina's hand beneath the table. She gave it to him. The pressure of their intertwined fingers was a welcome sensation and a slight release of the tension twisted inside of them.

They were just about to kiss when Roberts reentered. Alejandro was nowhere to be found. The captain looked Antonio dead in the eye as he spoke, but his words addressed Caterina as well.

"Neither of you," he said after a significant pause, "is welcome on my ship after this inconsiderate betrayal."

There was a snap of his fingers, and pirates seized Caterina and dragged her out of the galley. Antonio tried to fight them off, but there were too many for him to handle, and he, too, was carried out to the main deck. They swore in Italian and demanded an explanation for the sudden rough treatment.

"I'm the Dread Pirate Roberts," their host answered as he stood enraged before them. "And as you may or may not have heard... the Dread Pirate Roberts takes no prisoners."

Caterina and Antonio shared looks of unparalleled fear.

There was nothing they could do to save themselves now.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: The Appeal

Chapter Thirteen—The Appeal

"I killed the last man who crossed me after chasing him for decades. I became a skilled swordsman in order to defeat him, waiting for the day that fate would intervene and bring the six-fingered man back into my life. When that day came... I looked him in the eye, stood my ground, and said, 'Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.'" Roberts, who'd been pacing across the deck, halted mid-step and looked at his prisoners, who were tied to the mast. "Since then, I have become the man you see before you—quicker to anger and more swiftly to vengeance. I can assure you that your deaths will be slow and painful if you fail to cooperate."

Caterina never took her eyes off Roberts. Her mind was still trying to process everything he'd just said. _Roberts is good with a sword. His real name is Inigo Montoya. _That was as far as she seemed to get. _Roberts is good with a sword. His real name is Inigo Montoya. _She blinked. _"You killed my father. Prepare to die."_

"You're going to kill us?" she asked.

"We've been through this, Caterina. The Dread Pirate Roberts takes no prisoners." He nodded to Alejandro, who drew his sword and handed it to Roberts. The smooth blade glinted in the sunlight.

_Roberts is good with a sword_.

"Antonio," Roberts said, "do you remember the first thing I said upon capturing you?"

Antonio chewed the inside of his cheek. He looked up at the sky, at the sun, at the sails billowing softly in the wind. And then he said, "Of course. I remember every word." His gaze returned to the captain, who regarded him with a smirk. "'So, how is it that the both of you would like to be killed? Choose wisely, as this will be the last decision you'll ever make.'"

Roberts nodded and turned the sword over in his hand. The glare off the metal was blinding; so harsh that the prisoners were forced to squint. They didn't dare close their eyes or look away from him. "I pose the same question to you today, and once again, I implore you to choose wisely."

_His real name is Inigo Montoya._

_I should try to appeal to him on a personal level, _Caterina thought. _Maybe then he'd realize how ruthless he's become as Roberts._ "Inigo," she said, "would you mind telling me what your father's name was?"

Antonio stared at her. Her eyes assured him that she knew what she was doing. He relented and shifted his attention to Roberts.

"His... name?" Roberts-who-was-really-Inigo asked, momentarily distracted.

"Yes."

"Domingo Roberto Montoya."

"That's a fine name."

Inigo blinked. He lowered the sword to his side. It rested peacefully against his hip, no longer posing an immediate threat. "I loved my father," he said.

"My father was murdered, too, Inigo. You killed him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. According to the letter you sent me, you—"

"Letter?" Inigo's brow furrowed. "Caterina, I can neither read nor write, and I don't send letters after I kill people. Who was your father?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Vizzini of Sicily."

"Vizzini..." Realization dawned gradually on Inigo as his mind caught up with him, and his expression shifted from confusion to shock. "My God. _Caterina_. You're... you're Vizzini's only daughter."

_I thought we'd already established that I'm his daughter. _"Yes." _And why is he so stunned? He looks as if he's seen a ghost? _"Is something the matter with that?"

"Vizzini spoke often of you. He was very proud." Inigo hesitated. "I knew Vizzini, but he was never my prisoner. I was employed by your father... as a mercenary. He wanted to start a war."

_Mother said he was away on business. She never specified what his "business" was. I wonder if she knew. _"A war between whom?"

"Guilder and Florin, but that's not important. We kidnapped a princess—your father, a giant, and I—and we sailed to the Cliffs of Insanity. There, we met the man in black. I engaged him in a sword fight, but he bested me. He let me live. The man in black also bested the giant, but he, too, was allowed to live," Inigo said. "Vizzini was not so lucky."

"So the man in black was Roberts?"

"Yes."

"I thought _you _were Roberts."

"Well, yes, but at the same time, no. It's a long story." He looked to Antonio for help.

"Surely you've heard that Roberts has been marauding for almost thirty years? Well, Caterina, how do you think he stays so young?" Antonio asked.

"I don't understand."

"The man previously called Roberts was indeed the man in black. After my stint in the revenge business was over, Roberts—or Westley, as I came to learn—took me aboard this ship and reinstated a new crew. He took on the role of first mate, all the while telling them that I was Roberts," Inigo clarified.

"So you see," Antonio said, "Roberts' identity changes almost with the tide."

_So it wasn't this Roberts who killed my father after all. _She looked at Inigo. "Where can I find this Westley?"

"Last I heard, he and his wife were living a comfortable life in rural Florin. Why do you ask?"

"I made a vow to avenge my father, and it's a promise I intend to keep."

Inigo's forehead creased. "I'm afraid I can't allow that. As much as I respected Vizzini, I have a much greater respect for Westley—besides that, there is the matter of your execution, which seems to have escaped me for a moment."

"Must you kill us today?" Antonio asked.

Caterina took the hint. "Oh... really, can't it wait for tomorrow? I have a few sins that need confessing."

"And it'll take some time to decide our fates," Antonio piped up. "There are so many options, you know."

Roberts considered their input. He raised the sword again, running his index finger along the edge of the blade without enough pressure to slice his skin. He, like Antonio, glanced up at the sky and the sails, seemed to find something suitable in the heavens, looked at the couple, and said, "Good night, my friends. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

Alejandro received his sword from the captain and replaced it in its sheath. His eyes were wide as he asked, "You're going to let them get away with this?"

Roberts shrugged. "For now, yes. Tomorrow, who knows?" He brushed past his first mate to Rosalina, who'd been standing by the door to the galley for quite some time. "Come, darling, it's getting late, and we have a busy day ahead of us, my flower."

Rosalina smiled and took the arm Roberts offered her. They disappeared through the door together; the sound of their laughter echoing across the deck.

Caterina exchanged glances with Antonio. _What in God's name just happened? Have we actually been spared... for tonight, at least?_

"I wasn't sure that would work," Antonio said, "but it was certainly worth a try." He reached for her hand beneath the ropes, and she gave it to him automatically. They were no longer worlds apart in any sense of the word. Their hearts beat in time with one another.

"I love you," Caterina said. "I just wanted you to know that."

Antonio smiled. He already knew.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Departure

Chapter Fourteen—Departure

**The Dread Pirate Roberts' ship, **_**The Revenge**_

**The sea, one mile off the coast of Florin**

**One week later**

Inigo didn't kill them the next day. He didn't kill them the day after that, either. No, Inigo Domingo Montoya—the Dread Pirate Roberts, notorious for never taking prisoners—let his captives live for a whole other week. Caterina and Antonio were freed from the mast, fed, watered, and given free reign of the ship once more, as though there had never been any confrontation at all.

Caterina and Antonio were doing wonderfully as a couple. Their near-brush with death gave them a renewed passion for life and for love. No moment spent together was taken for granted—they were totally grateful for the time they shared on Inigo's ship.

Little gestures here and there were evidence of their intimate connection—a stolen kiss after sunset, a caress in the hallway, a laugh behind closed doors. They had never been so happy. They had never felt so blessed.

When Caterina recalled the disdainful way she'd treated Antonio aboard _The Merchant_, she was angry with herself for having wasted a fraction of her time with him. He was, quite literally, the best thing that ever happened to her, and she wanted, more than anything, to become someone more than deserving of his unconditional love.

They'd become a cliché, but neither seemed to mind.

Inigo's relationship with Rosalina also blossomed. Rumors spread that Rosalina was going to have a baby, but Rosalina offered no comment on the subject. If she were pregnant, she would've told, Caterina knew, just as she'd come out about sleeping with Inigo that first time.

Alejandro thankfully left Caterina and Antonio alone. He made no effort to hide his disdain for the both of them; nor did he choose to act out on his contempt. Caterina saw a glimmer of loathing in his eyes when he looked at her, but beneath that loathing, she sensed a kind of regret. Could it be that he still harbored feelings for her?

Caterina continued to work as Rosalina's maidservant. Eventually, she noticed her mistress' rounding belly and gathered the courage to ask about it. Rosalina tearfully confessed her pregnancy, overwhelmed by feelings of excitement and anxiousness.

"I still feel like a child myself," she told Caterina, placing a hand on her stomach. "And what will Roberts think? I... I don't think he wants to be a father."

"Are you happy about it?" Caterina asked.

"Well, yes."

"Then focus on that, and worry about In—about Roberts later." She pulled Rosalina into a hug. Their relationship had come a long way, too. _She's like the little sister I never had. I feel like I've known her for decades. _If she and Antonio ever got off the ship, Caterina decided that she wanted to see Rosalina again. _Next time, though, I hope to see her married to Inigo and raising his child._

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Rosalina said.

Caterina smiled. "Same here, _mi amiga_."

Antonio found Caterina abovedeck, leaning on the railing as the sun dipped beneath the waves. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She giggled and leaned into the kiss he pressed to her cheek.

"I missed you today," he whispered.

"I missed you, too. Rosalina kept me busy."

"Did she? Good." He proceeded to kiss her neck, her ear, her jawline—until she finally turned to face him, letting him take her in his strong arms.

Caterina put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a long kiss. He eagerly deepened the contact, sliding his hands to her waist.

Someone whistled.

Antonio pulled away when he felt the heat rise in Caterina's cheeks. He touched her face. "Still not used to this, are you?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "I don't think anyone is."

He looked over her shoulder. The man who'd whistled flashed him a sheepish grin. Antonio laughed. "I guess you're right about that."

Her hand covered his where it rested on her face. Caterina closed her eyes and inhaled his scent—a smell as familiar to her as the sea. _I never thought I'd be this happy after Solanio died. I never imagined loving again. _Life really was full of surprises-some of them unpleasant, and others totally worth the blood, sweat, and tears.

When her eyelids finally flew open, Antonio was smiling at her. Self-consciously, she averted her eyes. "What... is there something on my face?"

"No," he assured her. "I was just... thinking."

"About what?"

"About us. About how perfect everything is right now."

She looked at him. "Too perfect?"

He chuckled at that. "Is there any such thing?"

They kissed again, apathetic about an audience.

* * *

"I'm dropping you two off in Florin. We'll be stopping there to restock, and quite frankly, I've had it with your exhausting relationship," Inigo told Caterina and Antonio at dinner that night. "You should pack your belongings tonight... we'll be there first thing tomorrow morning."

Caterina looked at her lover—_lover, _what an interesting term—and asked, "What are we going to do in Florin?"

He scratched his stubbled jaw. "Well, the nearest venue to the coast is the infamous Fire Swamp. I suppose if we make it through that, we'll come up with some sort of plan. Roberts, are you going to drop us by the Fire Swamp?"

The pirate nodded. "I haven't much choice. King Corin knows it's our season. He'll have all of his men on the lookout for pirates."

Apprehension gripped Caterina's stomach. _No one has ever survived the Fire Swamp. No one ever will survive it. _Her father had told her stories of quicksand, hideous beasts, and sudden flames. _We don't even know how big the swamp is. What if we never find our way out again?_ Her eyes flitted over to Antonio, though she spoke directly to Inigo. "Isn't there some other way? What if you released us in Guilder?"

"We're too far from Guilder now," Inigo replied. "If we double back now, we may run out of rations before we make it ashore. I'm sorry, but Florin really is the only option."

"He's kept you alive for far too long. Don't be ungrateful now," Alejandro growled from the end of the table.

Antonio shot him a look.

Caterina laid a hand on Antonio's arm. _It'll be better for everyone once we're off this ship. Imminent death is easier to deal with than jealous sailors._

"I'm afraid I don't have a much of an appetite," Antonio said.

"Neither do I." Caterina squeezed his arm. "Do you want to go pack."

"_Si, per favore."_

They stood and left the galley without another word. Inigo bristled slightly, cleared his throat, and went back to dinner as though he hadn't been disrespected.

* * *

Caterina packed without incident, went to bed early, and rose with Antonio, who'd put off getting his things together until morning. She gave him a quick kiss and told him to meet her abovedeck. She had some unfinished business to resolve.

Alejandro was exactly where she thought he would be—sitting in his cabin, hunched over his desk, with his head in his hands.

Gingerly, she touched his shoulder.

He jumped through the roof. "What the bloody devil do _you _want? Haven't you done enough—"

"Haven't you?" Caterina retorted. "I want an explanation as to why you have a vendetta against Antonio and I, after we've managed to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the rest of the crew."

He looked up at her. His eyes were dark. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

"Oh, please—"

"No, go on. I really want to know—"

"I was in love with you, Caterina! I'm _jealous_ of Antonio—is that what you wanted to hear? God!" The chair made a loud scraping sound as Alejandro rose and seized Caterina by the wrists. He jerked her to him and smashed his mouth against hers.

She twisted away from him and slapped him across the face. Her hand stung. "You have an awful way of showing it," she muttered, turning on her heel and exiting the cabin.

He wanted to stop her, but he couldn't make himself apologize. She walked out of his life just as simply as she had entered, but Alejandro was a changed man because of her.

If he ever saw her again... he hoped to God he'd be a better man.

* * *

The minute Caterina saw Antonio, she fell into his arms and cried. When he asked her what was wrong, she shook her head. She was going to be all right.

There was a rowboat waiting for them on the port side of the ship. Inigo and Rosalina stood beside it, ready to see the couple ashore.

Antonio tossed their belonging in the boat and extended a hand to Inigo. "Thanks again for the courtesy you've shown us. We're... sorry if we've caused you any inconvenience."

Inigo shook his hand. "If you'd been too inconvenient, you'd be dead right now. Don't worry about it."

Caterina pulled Rosalina into a hug. "I'll miss you, Rose. Make sure you take care of yourself, all right?"

She nodded, blinking back tears. "I'm going to tell Roberts tonight."

Caterina kissed her cheek. "Good luck." She stepped back from Rosalina and approached Inigo. "Could I ask you for a favor?"

"You may certainly try."

"If you love that woman, make her an honest woman and marry her. She deserves a loyal husband, and she'll never love anyone as much as she loves you."

Inigo blinked. "She told you..."

"She told me everything, and I don't think any less of either of you," Caterina said. "Will you do it?"

He thought. "I can't make any promises—not yet, anyway."

"I understand. Goodbye." She followed Antonio into the rowboat, holding his hands as the boat was lowered into the water and the uncertainty that waited below.

As long as they had each other, it didn't matter what lie ahead. Their love for each other was so strong—perhaps they even had a shot at surviving the Fire Swamp.

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter is not the last chapter of this story, but I'm starting college shortly, and Lord knows when I'll be able to update this fic... please, bear with me! It'll be totally worth it in the end, I promise! Thanks for all the reviews-I love you guys! :D


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